Of Men and War
by DirtyFeet
Summary: In the battles, we lost ourselves. In the quiet moments, we reaffirmed our existences in each other. When the smoke cleared, I was alone, and when he was gone, I didn't know who I was anymore. Sequel to "Of Wolves and Men." RL x OC.
1. Of the Order of the Phoenix

**A/N**: Sequel to _Of Wolves and Men_. Things will be very different from its predecessor. It will certainly get dark, so if you just wanted a love story, you should stop here. I certainly hope you read on though. I promise it's worth it!

**REVIEW PLEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Of the Order of the Phoenix<strong>

There was a slight chill in the air. An eerie haze settled on the silent wizarding village streets, yellow street lights glowing above. One flickered slightly with a dull hum before retaining its constant note. There was a chirp of a cricket somewhere in grass, or perhaps in the bushes.

In one property's lawn in particular, there was a tall oak tree full and green. Though from below, only branches and leaves could be seen, invisible above crouched two dark-haired figures, both armed and at the ready. The young man let out a slow breath through his nostrils, as if to release the tension in limbs. The woman shot him a look from the corner of her eye briefly before looking back to the doorstep below.

She was barely breathing. Her legs were sore and stiff from being in this tree. Glancing at her watch quickly, it read 00:14 - they'd been there for two hours already. She wanted to groan with anxiety, but she kept her mouth shut, biting her lip painfully to distract her from the tingling in her toes. Her partner also looked ready to simply fall from the tree with impatience, but they remained steadfast, waiting, waiting.

The young woman mused that perhaps the darkness of night could absorb time. Perhaps in these invisible hours, the world stilled, and they with it. Perhaps, like light, the passing of time could be sucked into this dark corner of the world and even reversed. Perhaps they hadn't been there at all.

Her mind stopped. There was a flicker somewhere in the shadows. A rabbit again? No, this was different. This was what they'd been anticipating. She knew it.

Finally, a series of inky tendrils slithered out from the darkness into the yellow light of the porch, and the young woman gripped her wand, throat tight. Her breath seemed to leave her as three dark figures solidified beneath them, faces clad in silver masks, which glinted in the dim light. The woman looked to her partner, who was armed as well. They gave a brief nod to each, lips tightening and then turned, wands extended _en guarde_.

"_Stupefy!_" they both cast in unison, hitting two out of the three hooded figures in the chest with beams of red light, knocking them unconscious. The third shouted out in surprise and looked around wildly for the source of the hexes, spotting James and Rowan in the tree above. He snarled in anger.

"_Avada-_" he started but was cut short by another red light, hitting him square in the back with a grunt. As he fell to the ground, the pair leapt from the tree quickly, sprinting towards the three fallen Death Eaters with their wands still drawn.

The woman reached them first, quickly grabbing the wrists of the first man as she wordlessly conjured up a series of heavy ropes, which wound quickly around the dark wizard's waist and wrists. She tied the knot tightly as the man stood at the ready in front of her, eyes scanning quickly over their surroundings in case of any additional enemies hiding in the darkness. As she was moving to tie the next one, two older red-haired men appeared from the bushes, Disillusionment Charms fading. One was tall and thin with a long face and nose, and the other was shorter with a square face and bright brown eyes. The taller man also kept his wand out and armed.

"Good work, you two," the shorter man said, nodding to the younger pair. He squatted down to remove the mask of the first one as the young woman tied up the last. "Well, I'll be damned," he breathed, chuckling darkly without humor. "Arthur, it's good ol' Victor Crabbe."

The taller man nodded but kept his eyes facing toward the darkness. "I imagine one of the other two will be Grayson Goyle, then," he said quietly.

The shorter man removed the mask from the second. "Quite right," he confirmed. "About time we caught these two. I can't imagine Lucius Malfoy would lower himself to do a sloppy hit like this, but…" He moved to the third.

But just as he was about to remove the remaining mask, the woman saw a glint in the darkness and tackled him to the ground.

"_Get down!" _she shouted, as a beam of green light shot from the darkness and hit the door above them, just where his head had been.

In a surge of adrenaline, she grabbed the older man and threw him into the bushes with her, scrambling up to join the battle again. Another two Death Eaters had emerged from the darkness and were dueling viciously with her partner and the man called Arthur. One finally landed a lucky shot, hitting Arthur in the chest with a flash of red light. He fell to the ground unconscious.

"_Arthur!"_ the other older man shouted, running to his fallen comrade's side.

"No, _Gideon!"_ she called out after him, but in her distraction, the Death Eater broke through the front door of the house in a billow of black robes and smoke, and she took off after him, throwing hexes at him but narrowly missing every time.

"_Shit, shit, shit!"_ she cursed at herself, breathing harshly. She had to stop him. _Why couldn't she land a single hit?_

He tore up the stairs toward the master bedroom, wand drawn and panting, and Rowan was throwing hexes erratically in panic. But just as he burst through the door, he found himself staring down the end of a wand.

"_Stupefy!"_ And in a flash of red light, he was down for the count.

She reached the bedroom just in time to see the Death Eater collapse to the ground and looked up, panting, to see a tall young man with light hair and a scarred face. He was glaring down at the masked man, wand still drawn. A pretty brunette woman with piercing blue eyes was positioned behind him, wand armed. She pushed past him quickly, conjuring ropes the same way the dark-haired woman had and tied him tightly.

The woman lowered her wand and felt as if she might throw up from the sudden relief before rushing into the arms of the light-haired man. He wrapped his arms around her tightly for a moment before pulling back to look at her, holding her by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he whispered frantically. "Is everyone safe?"

She nodded. "Yeah, we're all okay. Arthur got hit by a Stunner, but he's all right I think. That's how this one got in," she said quickly, gesturing down to the man at their feet.

The young man let out a shaky breath before turning back to their friend. "I got this, Mina," he said, pointing his wand at the dark form and levitating his heavy body up. The smaller woman moved forward to hug Mina quickly before they ran down the stairs together, their friend following with the floating captive.

When they got outside, they saw that Arthur had been revived, still sitting on the ground in a slight daze, and the other three unconscious enemies were still tied up together. The one young man had been dueling, however, was missing.

"Last one got away," he said angrily. "Took off when he heard his partner get taken down. Coward," he spat. He kicked one of the masked men in frustration, and he grunted unconsciously with pain.

"You okay, Arthur?" Mina asked the taller man.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that. Slipped up there, I did," he said apologetically and got to his feet slowly. "Got damn lucky though," he added darkly. He seemed quite shaken at his close brush with death.

Gideon Prewett clapped him on the back. "Well, another day, another fight. Eh, Weasley?" he said jovially, though the relief on his face was apparent. "Let's head over to the Ministry to turn these bastards in, and then we'll go back to Headquarters to make our report to Dumbledore. I think Molly said she'd be waiting with dinner for us. I imagine the MacDougals will also be waiting."

The four men each grabbed a Death Eater, hauling them up by the ropes around their waists. The dark-haired woman looked up at the man with the scarred jaw, snaking her arm in his and smiling up at him thinly, the stress of the mission still tight in her spine. He looked down at her with a fierce heat, and they all Disapparated on the spot.

* * *

><p>"So it turns out the Death Eaters we got tonight were Victor Crabbe, Grayson Goyle, Tenebrus Macmillan, and Thorfinn Rowle," said Gideon as he sat down at the table at the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. "No Malfoy again," he added disappointedly.<p>

"Well, he's not one to get his hands dirty," said Remus bitterly. "Plays it safe, that one."

The four younger members had been eating Molly Weasley's excellent stew and talking quietly as they waited for the older man to return from reporting their mission's results to Dumbledore. Arthur Weasley was icing a bump on the back of his head while eating a bar of chocolate. His wife was darting around him worriedly, placing a hot mug of tea in front of him. Every so often she'd come over and check the welt on his head and seemed unable to keep her hands from touching his face. Rowan was reminded of Remus' mother and sympathized with the older woman – it must have been heart wrenching for her to stay behind while her husband went out to fight.

"And the Macdougals?" Mina asked.

"Kingsley, Sirius, Peter, and Lily should be tucking them into bed as we speak," Gideon said warmly. "It's lucky that they came to us in time," he added more seriously.

The people around the table nodded gravely but were interrupted when the door to the kitchen swung open, and a flash of red hair swept in. Lily Evans burst in and threw herself into James' arms, which he wrapped around her waist tightly. The two held each other for a moment before Lily pulled away.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, eyes scanning over his face wildly.

He smiled reassuringly. "Yes, darling, I'm okay. Everyone's okay," he murmured quietly.

She settled in to the seat next to him, arm still wrapped around James' waist, as Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew appeared in the doorway, smiling exasperatedly.

"I told you he'd be fine, Lil. James' head is too thick to do any damage to it," Sirius joked. She glared at him but said nothing, turning back to her boyfriend and gripping his arm tightly.

"You guys got the Macdougals back in their home?" Remus asked, looking at the two men.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, they send their thanks," he said.

He and Sirius slipped into the seats next to Mina. Sirius' eyes scanned over her quickly. She smiled quietly at him and rubbed his hand reassuringly, and he seemed to take it as a sign that she was all right, draping an arm around her shoulders and smiling broadly in relief.

"Where's Kingsley?" Arthur asked.

"Went to go give our report to Dumbledore. He sends his regards," Sirius replied. He sighed. "Damn, I hope I can be half as cool as that guy someday. The man is like the definition of strong and silent."

Rowan snorted. "Sirius, I don't think you've ever been 'silent' in your entire life," she said. Their friends laughed at his dramatic wounded look.

"So when is Dumbledore giving us our next assignment?" Remus asked Gideon.

He shrugged. "Not sure," he said, "Though I imagine it won't be until next week's meeting at least. Don't worry about it too much."

The younger members finished their dinners and thanked Molly for the stew, a few hugging her affectionately. Turning to say goodbye to the Weasley-Prewett family, they each moved for the door. Remus and Rowan were the last to exit.

He grabbed her hand, tangling his fingers in hers. "Stay with me tonight?" he asked quietly.

She smiled gently and squeezed his hand reassuringly, reading the anxious look in his face. "Yeah," she replied. He smiled in relief and led them out the door after their friends. As they hit pavement, Rowan felt herself being sucked into the void, fingers still laced with Remus'.


	2. Of Reasons to Be Grateful

**A/N**:

**REVIEW PLEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Of Reasons to Be Grateful<strong>

It had been about six months since the Marauders had joined the Order of the Phoenix, and they'd only had a handful of missions assigned to them so far. Their involvement had mostly involved back up until very recently, when they'd finally been given a few protection missions. Luckily, their assignments had been going smoothly, but Rowan was still anxiously dreading the night someone finally got hurt.

The respective couples in their group of friends had been split up and placed into different teams with more senior members of the Order as to not allow emotional distractions, which Rowan thought was a very sensible policy. She was frequently paired with Arthur Weasley, who was naturally more cautious than she, though she'd also found herself with Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody from time to time, which both frightened and delighted her. He reminded her of a more well-humored version of her Potions Master Damocles Belby, and she frequently amused herself with teasing him. She supposed she was lucky that the older Auror had taken a liking to her brand of humor, as Sirius often found himself at the receiving end of the older man's anger.

Remus, however, had not been pleased with their separation on missions, still having a fierce need to protect her. He had initially received the information with quietly contained anger, but he accepted it as well as he could when he saw that she'd be partnered with experienced duelists – albeit reluctantly – and was frequently paired with Gideon Prewett or Dedalus Diggle, who were both impulsive men and were mellowed out by Remus' nearly constant reason. After each mission, Remus would either stay at her apartment, or she'd stay at his, and he'd make love to her fiercely, hands gripping to her tightly as if scared that if he let go of her, she'd disappear. After, she'd hold him gently and kiss him slowly, calming his nerves and reassuring him that she was indeed still there with him.

Their relationship had had its ups and downs since she'd joined the Order – a little later than the others so that she'd have time to adjust to her rigorous apprenticeship – but they were still more in love with each other than ever. It was as if the war made their days together more precious, and they cherished each moment they had alone. Rowan couldn't imagine her life without him and feared losing him more than anything, often waking in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and frantically reaching over to feel him beside her.

One good thing, however, had emerged from the rubble of war – James and Lily had gotten engaged. They were to be married in the summer, and their friends were all ecstatic for them, happy for a glimmer of light in the darkness. Rowan knew logically that it was all quite sudden – they hadn't even been together officially for a year – but there was something about them that was so honest and fiery that it all seemed very normal. If there was such a thing as soul mates, she was determined that it applied to James and Lily.

Sirius and Mina's relationship had also had its ups and downs, but the two seemed to be doing relatively well. After leaving Hogwarts, they had started quietly seeing each other, and Rowan still hadn't been able to pull out of her friends what had occurred between them at the end of their last school year. Mina had gotten quieter since beginning at the Order, and Rowan could see that it was taking its toll on her, but the brunette kept going with a quiet fire that she had to admire. Sirius had moved out of the Potters' home and had his own flat in London, though he frequently stayed at Mina's place – Rowan suspected it had to do with similar reasons that Remus insisted on staying with her. She often felt guilty that she didn't have more time to spend with her friends but was glad to see that they were both doing well in both their relationship and work at the Ministry.

Peter and Maria Bastion had recently broken up about a month before. He didn't talk about it much, but Rowan could see that it had hit Peter pretty hard. James told her that the girl was scared of his involvement with the Order, and Rowan hoped that it didn't make him second-guess himself. He wasn't a confident man, and the last thing the Order needed was for someone to back out – they didn't exactly have many members.

* * *

><p>"Girl, do you have those sleeping draughts I asked you for?" grumbled a deep voice.<p>

Rowan was lying on her desk with her head on her arms. After her protection mission with the Macdougal family, Remus had kept her up late with his usual post-mission attentions – though who was she to complain – and she was feeling particularly tired. She sat up and saw Damocles Belby clunking down the stairs loudly. "Good morning, Master Belby," she yawned.

He grunted. "Wake your ass up. It's time to get started. The sleeping draughts?" he asked grumpily.

She yawned again. "Sorry, had a late night," she said apologetically. "I have the draughts right here… was about to set them out in the shop."

"Do it quickly and come back down. I want to get those permutations done today. Alexander will watch over the shop," he grunted.

Her research with Belby had been moving quickly and intensely. All of the rumors about his harsh treatment of his apprentices had turned out to be true. She often found herself working well into the night for hours – sometimes staying all night – which had cut into her time with the Order and Remus. He was crude and often verbally abusive, and she could see how someone more sensitive or less determined than she would crumble under the pressure.

However, the standards that Belby set for his apprentices were only half as high as the ones he set for himself. He usually worked well into the night after she left, and on the rare occasion that he committed an error while concocting a potion, he'd throw a small tantrum, cursing at himself and her harshly and sometimes even throwing things. On a particularly bad day, he'd frightened her by throwing a cauldron of ruined potion at a wall. Despite all of the difficult aspects about his personality though, she had a deep sense of respect for the man for his convictions and brilliance, and because of that, no matter how hard he was on her, she never felt an inclination to quit. He wasn't totally unreasonable either – as long as she got her work done, he didn't care when she left in the evening. If she had a meeting with the Order, she'd leave before she was finished and would return early in the morning to complete her work.

However, Rowan still hadn't informed her Master of her involvement with the Order, and though she'd been working with him for nearly half a year, she still couldn't predict how he'd react. The only thing she'd been able to decipher thus far was the difference between his affirmative grunts and his negative ones. He was a volatile man of many contradictions, and she often would think that he'd respond in a certain way only to have him respond in the opposite. Though he was friends with Albus Dumbledore and seemed to have a strong sense of morals and virtue, she couldn't be sure that he'd be pleased to have an Order member as his apprentice.

They got to mixing permutations of their most recent research result, setting them aside to be tested later. They usually worked in silence, only speaking when they needed to exchange information, but Rowan realized that it'd been exactly six months since she'd begun to work for him and still knew next to nothing about his personal life or history.

"Master Belby, may I ask you a personal question?" she asked slowly.

He snorted. "I don't suppose you'd stop even if I said no," he said gruffly.

She grinned. "You know me so well," she said, but then she took on a more serious tone. "It's just that I don't really know anything about you, and I feel like it's not right."

He grunted. "Don't suppose why that's important," he said.

She smiled. "Well, I was wondering what house you were in at Hogwarts, for starters," she said.

"Ravenclaw," he responded shortly.

She thought about it for a second. "I suppose that makes sense," she said. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

He snorted. "I have a younger brother. He's a right bastard though," he growled.

She frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

He snorted again. "Don't be. He's a bumbling idiot," he retorted.

"Can you form a corporeal Patronus?" she asked.

He grunted in confirmation. "An elephant," he said.

She grinned. It seemed very fitting for some reason. "Favorite food?"

"Chocolate," he said shortly.

This was another surprise to add to her seemingly endless list. He certainly didn't seem like the type who would like sweets. It reminded her of Remus. She smiled warmly at the thought.

She remained silent for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, but another question kept popping into her head. The first time they'd met he'd asked her who was so important to her that she'd be willing to risk her reputation and safety for this position. It had been eating at her since she began to work for him in June, and she frequently mulled over it during her work. It wasn't a question most people would think to ask. Who was so important to _him_ that he'd taken on such a task?

He was unmarried – that much was apparent. There were no pictures around his office, he wore no wedding band, and he didn't have the cared-for look of a married man. She highly doubted most women would approve of their husbands working so maniacally anyway. The thought of him being a gentle lover was such an absurd thought that it nearly made her laugh. So who was it then?

"Master Belby," she called quietly.

"Hm?" he grunted vaguely.

"When we first met at Hogwarts, you asked me a personal question about my reasons for wanting this," she said slowly.

She saw him stiffen from the corner of her eye but didn't face him. "What of it?" he asked.

"Well, I was wondering – what is _your_ reason?" she asked quietly. _Who?_

He didn't answer her question but kept working silently. She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he answered, "That's none of your business, girl. Now stop asking inane questions."

She sighed softly but didn't fight back. Something painful must have happened to him, she thought. She was dying to know but resigned herself to the fact that she'd just have to wait. Perhaps he'd tell her one day.

* * *

><p>Remus yawned, leaning his forehead against the cool surface of the staffroom table. He silently berated himself for staying up so late again, but every time he or Rowan were given a mission for the Order, he was always filled with an unspeakable fear that she'd be gone when the dust settled. The dark presence within him would roar with the need to feel her beneath him, to know that she was still whole, that she was still his. He felt incredibly guilty for taking his insecurities out on her, but he supposed there were worse ways to express them. He smirked quietly to himself - she certainly hadn't seemed to mind the night before. He felt a slow lingering heat at the memory of her trembling hips.<p>

When he'd come in to see Fabian Prewett at the end of June to interview for a researching position at the Institute of Charms and Enchantments, he'd been surprised to meet a jovial man whose fiery hair rivaled even Lily's in temperature. He was stocky and relatively short with bright brown eyes with a loud booming laugh. He didn't asked Remus any questions specific to the position and informed him that it was merely a formality for protocol reasons – he'd already made up his mind to hire him. Remus' head spun at the whirlwind of a man's words and thought he might faint from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. He was once again eternally grateful once again to Professor Dumbledore who had apparently recommended him.

"And if Dumbledore says you're qualified – well, I'd be a right fool to disagree with him!" Prewett had laughed, grinning maniacally at the dumbfounded look on Remus' face.

Rowan had wept again when he returned to her apartment later that evening to tell her that he'd been hired on the spot. He hated it when she cried for him, but there was something about seeing her smile so brightly with tears in her eyes for him that made him praise the heavens that he'd been put on this earth.

"Late night, eh?" a loud voice boomed.

Remus looked up blearily to see Fabian grinning down at him with his usual pose of his hands on his hips and chest puffed out. Remus often mused that his boss looked like a large leprechaun, which Fabian found hilariously amusing.

Remus nodded and tried to stifle his next yawn. Fabian pulled up a seat next to him and looked at him more seriously.

"Gideon says you all did a protection job last night for the Macdougal family. Did everyone come out all right? How's that girl of yours?" he asked in hushed tones.

"Everyone's fine. Rowan's fine. Arthur got hit by a Stunner, but he's okay, just a little shaken up. I think Molly's nerves were what suffered most last night," he said, smiling weakly.

Gideon smiled thinly and nodded. "Yeah, Molly's a right nervous wreck sometimes. Lucky everyone got out okay though. Don't wear yourself too thin, all right?" he said concernedly as he stood to move back to his office.

Remus nodded at the older man and winced slightly as he slapped him on the back hard before he turned to leave. It still seemed strange to see the Prewett man so stern and was strangely grateful that it was a rare occurrence. Remus had been shocked when he'd been assigned to his first mission with a man that looked identical to his boss but quickly realized that they were identical twins. Gideon looked and sounded exactly the same as his brother, and they often spoke in unison and completed the each other's sentences, but Gideon was even more cheerful and loud, if possible. Fabian often took a more protective stance towards the younger man as opposed to Gideon's sometimes reckless behavior, and it still frequently confused Remus when figuring out how to react to either.

Although the past six months had been emotionally trying and increasingly dangerous, Remus was still incredibly happy. One of his best friends was getting married, he was with the love of his life, and his transformations continued to be milder than they had been in his adolescence. He still returned to the Shrieking Shack to transform, as it remained a safe place, and Madam Pomfrey still insisted on patching him up post-transformation without payment. He felt incredibly fortunate and humbled by the generosity that the people around him offered. Even his job - one that he hadn't considered at first glance - had been fulfilling and surprisingly interesting. He had learned more about defenses against dangerous magical creatures under Fabian's guidance in the past six months than he had in all his years at Hogwarts and was enthusiastically studying kappas, which Rowan found wildly entertaining.

But he hadn't been without his share of prejudices. Though he'd managed to keep his condition relatively secret thanks to Fabian's insistence that he need not share it, a few individuals in other departments had caught wind of it from the Department of Protective Charms – the first department he'd applied to work for and was rejected from for said condition. Every so often, he'd receive hostile glares or fearful glances from other researchers in the halls, and though he tried to not let it bother him, he still feared the day that someone confronted him about it.

But still, his life was good – a hundred times better than he would have ever expected even a year before. At 5 p.m., he stepped out of the ICE building onto the bustling London pavement and looked up at the sky. It was cold and crisp, and the sky was a brilliant combination of fuchsias and oranges. Rowan's bright eyes came to mind, and he wondered idly when she'd get done with work, hoping that she didn't push herself too hard after their late night. He headed home to his apartment, walking briskly through the crowds and cold, and decided to wait for her there – he knew she'd come to see him when she was ready.


	3. Of Homes Lost to War

**A/N**: I don't usually do this, but go to and search "Kayden + Rain." I was feeling really depressed and lonely, but this video made me feel surprisingly hopeful. It's not just a feel-good/happy thing. There's something so extraordinary and light about it that you can't help but feel like the world is a little better. If you're feeling upset at all, go watch it.

**SOMEBODY WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

**Chapter 3: Of Homes Lost to War**

On the evening of December 24th, Rowan and Remus approached the Delacroix Manor for Christmas Eve dinner. Remus squeezed Rowan's hand tightly. His palm was slightly sweaty and his stomach was in knots. He focused on the giant house in front of him, and the yellow light emitted from the numerous tall glass windows seemed rather menacing. Suddenly, he felt Rowan slow to a stop before they reached the door, and he looked down at her confusedly.

She smiled gently at him. "Remus," she started softly, "You don't need to be nervous. It's just dinner."

He grimaced and wanted to laugh humorlessly at her but didn't think he could muster that amount of vocal volume without vomiting. "It's not _just _dinner. Your dad already doesn't like me. I don't even know what I'm going to say to him yet," he breathed in a nervous rush. He ran a hand through his hair.

Rowan smiled thinly. She had told her father about Remus' condition a few months before when he'd moved out of his parents' home. Remus was a critical part of her life, and she wanted all of her loved ones to know it, which pleased the dark presence at the back of his mind but also distressed him greatly. He had nearly thrown up with relief when her mother had told him that she supported their relationship, but to say that her father had been displeased at the news of his condition would be an understatement.

Rowan and Richard had spent close to an hour arguing over her choice of boyfriend. His face had contorted with anger at the thought of his daughter seeing a werewolf, and he bellowed till his throat was sore that she was throwing her life away. But she stood steadfast against verbal assault, and by the end of the night, he'd been forced to accept that she wouldn't budge on the matter, though he made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the young man. They hadn't spoken about it since, but she insisted to Remus that it was just a matter of time before he understood.

It had taken a lot of pushing on James and Rowan's parts to convince Remus to come to the annual Potter/Delacroix Christmas Eve dinner. James was bringing Lily, obviously, and they argued that it made sense for Rowan to bring Remus, since their relationship was nearly as serious as the formers' and had existed twice as long at the very least. But Remus had been hesitant, to say the least – the knowledge of her father's disdain for him was sickening, and the thought of seeing him in person in such an intimate setting was terrifying. It had taken many weeks of reassuring him that she didn't care for him to even come close to accepting it. She admitted that her father's approval would mean a lot to her, but she was determined to be with him no matter what anyone said, which made Remus both proud and full of dread.

But as always, Remus couldn't say no to Rowan's pleading, and he found himself on the doorsteps of the incredibly intimidating Delacroix Manor. His family was well-off enough – his father made a decent living at the Ministry with enough to retire comfortably – but this was a different level of wealth that he'd never imagined. He knew the Potters and Delacroixs were old Pureblood families, but the enormity of their wealth was suddenly very real, and the anxiety that he'd felt before was multiplied. He suddenly felt very self-conscious about his appearance.

He looked down at her, feeling nauseous, but she smiled at him encouragingly before pulling him up the remaining steps and walking into the foyer. Remus was relieved momentarily when Alfred emerged to greet them first, hugging Rowan tightly and shaking Remus' hand warmly. He told them that Richard still hadn't returned from the Ministry but would be home soon, and as they moved to the dining room, Rowan's fingers laced between his reassuringly. He grimaced but braced himself, following her into the house.

* * *

><p>"I wonder what's keeping the Potters," Rowan said quietly, looking over at the kitchen clock again. They were supposed to have arrived ten minutes before, and it wasn't like them to be late. Julia Potter was nothing if not punctual, and she was very efficient at keeping the men in her family in line with her schedules. Rowan couldn't remember the last time they were late for an event. She felt a chill creep up her spine that she couldn't shake. Her foot twitched nervously.<p>

Remus was sitting next to her, but he hadn't seemed to notice her distress as he was pointedly attempting to avoid eye contact with Richard. The older man had been staring him down since arriving home twenty minutes earlier, and the stress was wearing on him greatly.

"Richard, leave the poor boy alone," a voice called out.

The older man looked up from his visual assault to see his wife sitting down next to him at the table. She also looked concerned.

"It's not like Julia to be late," she said softly, mostly to herself. "I hope nothing has happened." The two women shared a grimace, and Rowan couldn't help but feel an overwhelming wave of dread wash over her.

As if answering her thought, a silvery light emerged from the wall. Alfred hurried into the room after it, eyes wide with fear. Rowan's stomach dropped, and she felt Remus' hand grip hers painfully when it took the form of a stag – it was James' Patronus.

His voice echoed eerily from the bright light: "_We've been attacked. Call Dumbledore. Please hurry."_ And with that, it vanished without a trace.

Rowan's heart stopped for a moment before turning to Remus, who was already gazing at her with fear written across his features.

She stood to her feet suddenly and thrust her wand into the air. "_Expecto Patronum!"_ A wolf flew from her wand and disappeared. Remus followed suit, and his wolf vanished after hers.

"We have to go," she breathed in a rush, and he nodded. Her parents both stood jerkily, looking pale.

"What do you mean? _Where_ do you have to go?" her father demanded.

She looked at him fiercely, anger rising quickly. "Dad, we have to meet the other Order members, to the Potters' house. We _have to go!"_ she half-shouted.

Richard's face contorted angrily. "_NO!_" he shouted. The sudden volume made Rowan jump. "No, you cannot expect me to let you go fight like this! You don't even know how many there are! You could be outnumbered!" he cried indignantly. He moved to block her path from the door.

Rowan felt rage spike through her hotly. "Dad, I don't have _time_ for this!" she shouted. "_Get out of my way!"_

"_At least let me come with you then_!" he shouted.

Rowan wanted to punch her father. "Fine, just GET OUT OF THE WAY!" she bellowed, pushing him out of the doorway and running down the hall with Remus close behind her. She could hear her father shouting a goodbye to her mother before stumbling after the two. As they hit the cobblestone walkway, the three of them Disapparated on the spot for the Potters' home, the icy air seeping through their pores and churning in their guts.

* * *

><p>Rowan could barely breathe. There was a glowing green skull floating menacingly above the Potter house. As Remus and her father appeared beside her, they stood for a moment in silence, the terror seizing all of them. Rowan could barely move at the sight of the eerie glow – the Death Eaters only released the Dark Mark when someone had been killed.<p>

She felt her legs moving towards the house before she could stop herself. She vaguely heard Remus call after her to wait, but she was sprinting as hard as she could, the cold winter air stabbing her lungs harshly and the snow crunching beneath her feet deafeningly. As she reached the door, she drew her wand, but just as she was about to open it, it burst open.

She found herself in a standoff, both people staring down the ends of each other's wands. It was Sirius.

"Identify yourself!" he shouted angrily at her, though his eyes wavered.

She took a shaky breath, steadying herself. "I am Rowan Delacroix, girlfriend of Remus Lupin. I once pushed you into the lake during our Fifth Year. We met on the Hogwarts Express on the first day of school," she breathed quickly. "Now you," she gestured jerkily.

He stared at her with wide eyes and nostrils flaring. His face was smeared with – was that blood? Her stomach lurched. "My name is Sirius Black, boyfriend of Mina Surrey. For your seventeenth birthday in July, James and I took you for ice cream and a Muggle movie. I go by the nickname Padfoot," he replied shakily.

His words sank in slowly, and when he lowered his wand, she was taken off balance as he threw his arms around her. She felt his shoulders trembling, and her body seemed to absorb the vibration, shaking as well.

Remus and Richard had made it up to the house by this point. The older man grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and pried him off of Rowan. He looked at him fiercely and shook him slightly. "Where is John? _Where is James' father?"_ he demanded. His eyes were wide with panic. Rowan had never heard her father's voice tremble in such a way. She suddenly realized that she could barely see anything. It was so dark. What had happened to all of the lights?

But then Sirius' lips began to tremble, and Rowan's stomach dropped again. She couldn't breathe. Richard's eyes widened even further, mouth gaping and gasping for breath. He pushed Sirius aside and stumbled blindly into the house. Rowan tore after him, leaving Sirius and Remus in the doorway. She vaguely heard them whisper something rushed to each other.

She followed her father into the Potters' kitchen where her stomach lurched painfully at the sight. Julia Potter was lying on the table with Lily hunched over the her, softly muttering incantations with a cold icy light emitting from her wand, illuminating the dark room and the girl's face eerily. Her hands were covered with blood. As Rowan moved closer, she saw that there was a large, bloody gash in the older woman's chest, just below her right collarbone. She was wheezing painfully but seemed to be unconscious. It sounded as if there was fluid in her lungs.

She watched her friend dumbly for a moment as the redhead slowly close the wound before realizing that John Potter's body wasn't there. She jerked her head around to scan the room quickly and saw that there were bloody rags scattered across the floor. Most of the chairs were broken in pieces with wood from the walls and furniture scattered in splinters among the rags There was a bloody handprint smeared across the far wall.

Rowan finally spotted her father and James stooped in the corner, hunched over a dark figure on the ground, and Rowan suddenly knew why the Dark Mark floated above the house. She felt her lungs constrict and struggled to breathe as she saw her James' form tremble violently, kneeling over his father's body and sobbing. She heard a frightening groan and realized with horror that it had come from her friend, who had pulled his father's body to his, rocking them both with muffled sobs. Richard had collapsed backward onto his rear and hands and stared dumbly at his oldest friend's limp form before burying his face in his hands and letting out a gasping sob. It shook her deep at the core.

Rowan wanted desperately to do something, to help somehow, but as she looked at Lily, James and her father, she realized that she couldn't do anything for any of them. She was mortified that she couldn't even move to try to console the two men, but what could she possibly say to them? She'd never felt so helpless, so weak, and she felt a surge of angry frustration bursting from her throat but bit it down. It escaped silently from her eyes in a hot stream of tears.

She jumped at the sound of sudden movement and turned jerkily to see Sirius, Remus, Kingsley, and Dumbledore emerging into the kitchen quickly but cautiously. Remus moved to stand next to Rowan by the table, and she could feel his gaze on her. She had placed her hands on the edge to support herself, as she feared that her legs might give out on her just like her lungs seemed to. _Why_ _was she so useless?_

Dumbledore and Kingsley looked over Julia's still form. Lily had finally stopped chanting and had lit her wand to illuminate the room. Her face was paler than Rowan had ever seen, and her jumper was caked with congealing blood. The wound in Julia's chest had finally stopped bleeding, but she was still wheezing. Her face was covered in a thin film of sweat and dirt.

"I've closed the wound, but she needs to get to St. Mungo's immediately," Lily whispered quickly to Dumbledore. "I think she punctured a lung, and the curse they used was extremely dark magic. I don't know if my spells will hold the wound for long." He nodded and looked to Kingsley who moved forward with his wand drawn. He floated the woman off the table and headed towards the door. Lily followed closely behind, and a faint popping could be heard from outside as they Disapparated with the injured woman.

James' sobbing had quieted, though he was still clutching his dead father's body desperately. Richard had also stilled eerily but remained on the floor with his face in his hands. Rowan was suddenly struck with the realization that she barely recognized him. Remus' hand covered hers and squeezed it tightly.

Dumbledore finally spoke. "We need to move his body and report his murder to the Ministry so they can begin searching for the culprits and place additional protection around Julia at St. Mungo's," he said quietly but firmly.

Sirius let out a barking laugh. It was cold and deafening in the dark silence. Rowan flinched at the sound. "The Ministry? _The Ministry?_" he asked incredulously. His voice was shrill with indignation. "Mr. Potter _worked_ for the Ministry! How the fuck is the _Ministry_ going to protect _anyone?_" he shouted. He was hysterical with his arms jerking wildly and tears escaping from his eyes.

"It's all we can do for now," Dumbledore responded calmly. "We need to move now though. We don't know if the Death Eaters will return to finish their work here. We need to get to headquarters now."

James remained still though, and for a few deathly quiet moments, Rowan thought that perhaps he and her father had died in the silence as well. Neither moved, and she couldn't even see the rise and fall of their backs for breath.

Finally, she jerked her head up as she saw Remus move forward quietly, kneeling down besides James and whispering something to him softly. He placed his hands gently on James', and after a moment, the dark-haired boy's hold loosened, laying his father's body back down to the ground gingerly, as if he were made of paper-thin glass.

Remus then looked over to Richard, and Rowan felt her eyes burn again with tears at the sight of him placing his hand firmly but gently on the older man's arm and pulling him up to his feet. Richard staggered but stood slowly, still unseeing. His face looked so much heavier than she'd ever seen, and she realized just how old he'd become over the recent years. Remus squeezed his shoulder again before letting go.

As James stood, Rowan mustered up the courage to move forward hesitantly and grasp her father's hand. He squeezed her hand tightly, and she returned it, guiding him backward gently as Remus levitated John's still form and moved towards the doorway. Rowan followed him, a sudden wave of determination taking over her, and she firmly pulled her father with her. James and Sirius followed slowly, neither speaking nor looking at each other, and Dumbledore held the rear.

As they exited, Rowan looked back again above the house. The nightmarish green light was no longer there, but the air seemed dead, as if the skull had consumed it. As Remus, Rowan, and her father stood and waited for the other three men to join them, Rowan looked at Remus. He was watching her carefully, and she gazed at him fiercely, overwhelmed with the loud silence, grief, and her admiration for him. She couldn't find the words, but as he took a deep breath and looked at her, she knew that he understood. Her father gazed at the house longingly. She could almost imagine the lost memories playing in his mind.

The last three met them finally, and Rowan looked one more time at the Potters' home, so dark and foreign looking. It didn't look anything like the same house that she'd known her whole life, and as they Disapparated for the Order headquarters, she thought to herself that she never wanted to see it again.


	4. Of All-Consuming Pain

**A/N**: This story is definitely harder to write than the last. I'm hoping it'll start flowing better soon. The beginning is always the most awkward, I guess.

**SOMEBODY WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Of All-Consuming Pain<strong>

John Potter's funeral was a tasteful and subtle affair, though none could remember much of it through the tears. Many came, and all mourned deeply, and as they set his body into the ground, Rowan felt something in the wind turn cold. He had been a bright presence, and the loss of his light in the days of war made the Wizarding world seem much darker. The end of the year slipped by quietly without much notice from the grieving Order.

Julia Potter had recovered at St. Mungo's but remained weak. She moved in with the Delacroixs and had been spending most of her time in her room alone, mourning her husband quietly. The Potter house remained empty after one more sweep through a few days after John's death, as James and Julia had been unable to step into their old home without succumbing to the memories of Christmas Eve in a bout of grief. Remus, Sirius, Rowan and Richard had gone together to gather some of the Potters' belongings and had remained silent coming and going, each wordlessly praying that they'd never have to step foot there again.

Just as Sirius had assumed, the Ministry hadn't been able to help the Potter family at all. The Order scoured through their lists of known Death Eaters, but James couldn't recognize any of them. The men who had murdered John Potter were still at large, and though Sirius, Mina, and James spent all of their spare time at the Auror department looking for clues, they continued to come up dry.

Rowan was growing concerned for James for he had begun to show behaviors beyond the normal indications of grief. He took on more and more missions for the Order and returned from each with a strange mania in his eyes that frightened all of them, particularly Lily. Lily confided in Rowan and Mina that he hadn't touched her in weeks, and she was often too scared to sleep in the same bed with him as he thrashed wildly and often woke screaming in the middle of the night with blind rage. Even bold Gideon had reprimanded him a couple of times for being too reckless, though James hadn't taken the stern words to heart.

Rowan was hoping to speak to James about it after their next mission together, as they had been partnered with Arthur Weasley and Gideon Prewett again for a protection mission. It was similar to their previous one for the Macdougals, though it was supposed to be less dangerous. Emmeline Vance and Dedalus Diggle also were there for backup, but the team was hoping that they would be able to get things done quickly and cleanly without resorting to the last pair's assistance.

Arthur and Rowan were hidden within the bushes, Disillusioned, watching the doorway of the Moira family's house with bated breath. James and Gideon were hidden in another group of bushes beneath James' Invisibility Cloak. Again, Rowan mused that time seemed to slow in the dark and was quickly growing impatient when a series of tendrils smoked out of the darkness into the cold light of the front porch. Two Death Eaters appeared, masks glinting. Rowan and Arthur had just silently aimed their wands to the ground to release their trapping enchantments at the Death Eaters' feet when they jumped at a loud shriek.

James had burst from his hiding spot with a shrill battle cry against procedure with Gideon frantically groping after both his partner and the Invisibility Cloak but to no avail. Rowan felt like she was moving through water with the waves crashing in her ears as she saw a flash of green light barely miss the top of James' head as he shot forward, tackling one of the Death Eaters to the ground.

"_James!_" she screamed, jumping from her hiding spot and throwing a Stunning Spell at the attacking Death Eater, but he deflected it just in time. Arthur had scrambled after her in an attempt to get her to stay hidden but ended up tumbling after her, a mess of flailing limbs. He shielded them both barely as the Death Eater threw another Killing Curse at them. Gideon took the moment to attack him from behind, landing a Stunner at his back, and the masked figure fell to the ground with a grunt.

But another group of four Death Eaters broke from the darkness, attacking the Order members with flashing hexes. James finally managed to knock out the Death Eater he'd been wrestling and scrambled to his feet, charging at the next one he saw.

Rowan felt a surge of blinding fear as she saw him running into the heat of the battle without any Shield Charms. He was throwing spells blindly, narrowly missing Gideon, who luckily dodged a red flash of light.

"THAT FUCKING IDIOT!_"_ the older man screamed, luckily hitting one of the remaining Death Eaters with a Stunning Spell just before he was about to throw a hex at James. Rowan was trying desperately to follow James' path, throwing Shield Charms at him while also attempting to preemptively hit the Death Eaters with her own hexes before they could attack the manic young man.

Emmeline and Dedalus suddenly burst from the house to help their comrades, and Rowan felt immense relief at seeing the Death Eaters being pushed back. One fled as he saw that he was being overpowered, and another fell unconscious at a flash of red light. Just as Rowan was about to curse the last, she saw a glimmer of blue light erupting from the tip of the Death Eater's wand, aimed directly at James, who was still throwing curses in a drunken rage. A wave of sickening panic overcame her, and before she could stop herself, she'd launched her body into his. She felt her feet leave the ground and her body slam into his, throwing him down violently. She heard Arthur shout and throw red at the Death Eater and saw the figure collapse.

But just as the dark form hit the ground, she felt an excruciating pain hit her side in a searing cold light and then felt a crack somewhere in her torso as she hit a tree and tumbled to the ground. She heard rather than felt herself cry out in pain.

But then there was a cold burning at her side, and she couldn't stop screaming. It was eating her skin, searing it, burning it. It was freezing cold, but it burned. _It burned!_ She didn't know if it was her own voice that was screaming or someone else – it sounded so otherworldly, so disembodied. Could that really be her screaming?

There were hands on her, holding her limbs down, but she tore wildly at her restrainers. She was blind with white light behind her eyes, so bright and painful. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and she was tearing, scratching at robes and skin and dirt – anything she could to make the pain stop. She wanted to tear her own skin off. She felt herself lose consciousness in the agony. Everything went white, and the last thing she remembered was the sound of her own screaming.

* * *

><p>"<em>Rowan.<em>"

Someone was calling her. They were so far though. Everything sounded so muffled, so distant. Her head pounded with her own heartbeat. It was deafening. It was so difficult trying to open her eyes. They seemed to be fifty times heavier than they'd been before. Someone needed to pry her eyelids open.

Then there was a dull ache in her back as she attempted to move. She couldn't though. Her limbs felt so heavy. Why couldn't she move? Her side was freezing cold. Or was it burning? She couldn't tell. It felt cold, but it seared dully like an old burn. Why was she feeling this way?

She finally was able to creak open one eye and saw that she was lying on her back on a hard surface and there were stars above her. Was she in the dirt? Had she died and woken just as they were about to bury her?

"Rowan!"

She forced her other eye open but couldn't move her head. Her neck felt so stiff, and her head felt even heavier than her limbs. She wasn't sure if she couldn't even open her mouth to speak. Did she have a voice? Her body felt so tired.

A mop of messy dark hair appeared in her vision, then a pair of glasses. Oh. _James._

"Rowan," he whispered. His eyes were bright, and there was a bright red bruise on his cheek. Had she done that to him? No, she couldn't remember hitting him. How had she gotten there to begin with?

"Rowan," he said again. "I'm so sorry," he whispered frantically. "I'm _so_ _sorry_. I can't… I can't believe what you just did. Y-you… It's so stupid. I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry," he rambled in a rushed breath.

She didn't know what he was talking about, and she still couldn't move her head. Her eyelids still felt so heavy. She closed them again and tried to remain conscious when she felt an icy blue jolt to her chest that shot up her spine with a gasping breath. She shot up and choked on her own lungs, holding her stomach as it cramped with the painful coughing. Her throat seared. She looked up finally and saw Emmeline holding her wand with a grim look on her face – she must have used some rejuvenating charm on her.

Finally, the battle came rushing back to her in a reeling flash. The hex, the pain, _James_.

She turned toward her friend and saw him flinch slightly at her gaze. The rage surged through her in a blinding heat, and she threw her fist out, colliding it with his jaw.

He grunted in pain and fell backward onto an elbow. Her hand ached from the bony collision, but she relished it and almost wanted to hit him again.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" she shouted at him. She smacked him hard, open-palmed, against his arm with an echoing slap as he sat up again. He flinched in pain but accepted it.

"You nearly killed _all of us!_" she shrieked. "Do you have _any idea_ how _fucking stupid_ you are? I nearly _died_ because of you! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

James stared at the ground with loose hands, kneeling beside her, as if posed to accept her punishment. The pathetic look on his face didn't soften her anger, however, and she had to suppress the urge to slap him again. But another cold searing pain shot through her head, and she doubled over in agony, clutching her throbbing skull with a soft whimper.

James jerked up at the sound of her pain, but she flailed an arm out wildly to prevent any of her teammates from touching her, afraid that the contact would be too much to handle. She rocked silently for a moment, clutching her eyes shut before starting again.

"_Seriously, you stupid fucking bastard_," she whispered venomously. She was in too much pain to muster more voice, but her anger was still so overwhelming that she needed to berate him more. "Have you even once stopped to consider what your mother would do if you got hurt? What _Lily _would do?" she whispered. She felt her eyes sting and wasn't sure if it was from her anger or pain. "You're getting married soon, aren't you? _Grow the fuck up already!_"

James stared dumbfounded at her silently. The older members remained standing awkwardly, watching the two younger members' emotional exchange, unsure of how to comport themselves. James' fingers clutched the icy dirt next to Rowan but didn't touch her out of fear that she'd lash out at him again or that he'd hurt her. She was still clutching her head in pain but had stopped rocking, seemingly containing it better.

When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, squinting with effort, he looked truly ashamed. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. Rowan grimaced but nodded, reaching a hand around blindly for someone to help her to her feet. James scrambled up and pulled her up gently, balancing her as she stumbled slightly with her head spinning.

She breathed shakily and tried to steady herself. The group remained silent for a moment, each trying to figure out how to help the injured young woman.

"Well," Gideon coughed awkwardly, "I suppose we should head back to the Ministry then Headquarters." Rowan noted dumbly that a couple of the older men were holding onto a Death Eater. She counted slowly – two… that meant they'd only gotten a third of them.

James stepped up beside her and took her hand in his hesitantly. She still felt a dull anger towards him but was too fatigued to fight him. She also knew she was much too weak to Disapparate alone. She closed her eyes and leaned into him in exhaustion. As they were sucked into the void, she mused darkly that Remus would be very mad at the both of them.


	5. Of Death's Whispered Promises

**A/N**: I think the last chapter was a little better. Things will finally start picking up, which I think will help with the jerkiness of the previous chapters. Also, I don't think I'll have as many sexual scenes in this story. I guess they could fit later on, but for now, it doesn't seem to make sense in the context of the tone I'm setting. Do you guys want that sort of thing?

This one is kind of short and internal, but I think it's important for Rowan and Remus' approach towards the war.

**SOMEBODY WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: Of Death's Whispered Promises<strong>

Just as Rowan had predicted, Remus had been furious with both her and James when they'd returned to Headquarters after their nearly disastrous mission. She'd just about been unconscious with a couple of broken ribs when they stumbled into the kitchen together. Remus' hands had immediately fallen on her with finger prying at her side and face, rushed breaths and panicked words falling from his mouth, though she could barely remember any of it. She was glad at that moment that she had very few physical indications of her injuries and no signs of the cursed burning pain, as Remus didn't need a visual reminder of her narrow escape. Arthur had to hold him back from hitting James when he found out what happened at the Moira residence.

The three spent the night at Headquarters with Remus' arms wrapped tightly around Rowan's unconscious form. After Rowan came to early the next morning, luckily a weekend, she and James had a long discussion about his recent erratic behavior. She had guessed correctly that it was an unhealthy expression of his grief for his father's murder, but the cold reality of seeing his best friend nearly killed because of him seemed to have woken him up from his vengeful haze. She ended up slapping him again, though not as hard as the night before, and told him to shape up soon – if he still wanted Lily to marry him, he was going to have to start treating her better, and his eyes widened with fear at the suggestion that Lily might leave him. When she showed up later in the morning panicking that he hadn't come home, he kissed her desperately as if he hadn't seen her in months, and Rowan was happy to see the relief on Lily's face as they left together.

The entire ordeal had been sobering, to say the least. She didn't know how to feel as she was left in the silence of the Order Headquarters' drawing room. Her hands shook slightly when she realized how close she had been to death, and though she had brushed it off when talking to James and Remus, she could still feel the dull searing in her side from just the memory of the cold fire there the night before. She reached to touch her side every few minutes to make sure that her skin was still there and whole, and it strangely made her hurt even more at the realization that there was no physical mark left to indicate that it had happened at all, as if it cheapened or delegitimized the excruciating pain that she'd felt.

When Remus quietly reentered the room after James left, she was seated in an old chair, trembling and breathing raggedly, pushing the memory of the hex away from her mind. He knelt in front of her and gripped her hands tightly, frowning with concern at her. She realized that her face was contorted with pain again, though she felt none, and the confusion left her frustrated with stinging eyes.

The fire in Remus' eyes burned through her, and she wanted to be consumed in it, to not have to think. He stood and scooped her almost effortlessly from the chair before sitting down in it himself and cradling her in his lap. She was overcome by his warmth and the feeling of his hands on her and felt the tears spilling from her eyes before she could stop them.

She was afraid, so overwhelmingly afraid. The fear ran through her veins and churned her stomach – what if that Death Eater had thrown a Killing Curse instead? She should be _dead_. She had almost killed Arthur as well! She felt a sob erupt from her chest, and Remus squeezed her tightly, pulling the tears from her. She clung to him desperately and buried her face in his neck, ashamed of herself for her cowardice and for giving Remus yet another thing to worry about. He already obsessed unhealthily about her well-being – how could she give him another reason to fear for her? She wanted to scream with frustration at her weakness. Why couldn't she be stronger? She was alive and without any permanent damage after all, right? Why couldn't she just shake it off?

But she continued to cry quietly. Remus held her tightly, silent but comforting, and she could almost pretend that, in his arms, she was safe from the horrors of the war outside those walls.

* * *

><p>Remus insisted fiercely that Rowan take a couple weeks off from the Order, and she didn't fight him for once. She told their friends that she had a lot of work with Belby, but really, she was going home at normal hours and just laying quietly in bed with Remus, limbs tangled with his and basking in his warmth. The remaining memories of her flirtation with death was still painful, though not quite as raw, and she suddenly understood Remus' need to make love to her after every mission – the simple feeling of touching him, of knowing that he was there beside her reaffirmed both his existence and hers, and in those frenzied passionate moments, she knew she was very much alive.<p>

When she returned to the Order, James was still contrite to the point of being awkward. James had _never_ been awkward with her, and the confusion that it instilled in her was painful. After a couple of days, she had to punch him again to make him stop treating her so delicately, and he thankfully seemed to return back to normal, though he would still shoot a few guilty glances her way when he thought she wasn't looking.

Lily had embraced her so tightly that it slightly hurt her injured ribs. James had returned home to her and slept soundly for the first time in weeks after their ordeal, and Lily was extremely grateful to Rowan knowing that it had been her words that had woken him up. Rowan didn't really know how to respond to this and joked reassuringly that he had just needed someone to beat it into him. Lily beamed at her, and Rowan felt slightly dirty as she heard the quiet voice at the back of her mind whisper its fears and anxieties to her. _She doesn't know that you're actually a coward_. She prayed that they wouldn't see it in her face.

* * *

><p>The next few months passed quickly and with little development. The Dark Lord's movements seemed to have slowed a bit, and the Order of the Phoenix was growing antsy with anxiety, waiting with bated breath for news of the next tragedy.<p>

Remus had withdrawn into himself slightly since her brush with death, and she sometimes saw him looking at her hungrily when he thought she wasn't paying attention, just as he did right before he left her at the end of their Sixth Year. For the first few weeks, she watched him silently, terrified that at any moment he'd tell her that he was leaving her again. But the moment never came, and though his dark brooding remained, it was infrequent, and he never made any mention of having reservations about their relationship. She rationalized that it was just because he was worried about her and the lack of Death Eater activity and forced herself to not dwell on it. If he'd wanted to leave her, he would have done so already.


	6. Of Where One's Future Lies

**A/N**: This story has been picking up more slowly than the last... Maybe because it's a sequel? Feeling kinda lonely T-T

Thanks to **sarahmichellegellarfan1, missalex3030, and loulouflowerpower** for the sweet reviews! I'm glad the change in tone from the previous story is being received well. **Sarahmichelle**, I can always count on you for the most enthusiasm and encouragement, and it warms my heart haha. Also, I've been having problems with this story not showing up on searches too, so I'm not sure what's up with the alerts and whatnot. I sent an email to the support staff, but we'll see.

**REVIEW MEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Of Where One's Future Lies<strong>

June arrived quickly with still very little movement from the Death Eaters. Despite the warm sun and energy of the city in the summer, Rowan still felt the anxiety that something bad was waiting to happen. Remus' slight withdrawal remained, though it hadn't worsened, and Rowan mused that it was possible that this was how he was going to remain for as long as they continued fighting in the war. She wondered if she would be able to withstand it.

But one thing she could be genuinely happy about was James and Lily's wedding. Sirius was James' best man, and though Lily had asked Rowan to be her Maid of Honor, she'd declined politely and said that Mina should walk down the aisle with Sirius – the thought of that much responsibility also irked her. Though Lily had looked slightly disappointed, she'd promised her friend to give a speech at the reception, which Mina was pleased with, as she hated public speaking.

The ceremony had been short and simple. Remus gave Lily away as both James and Lily's fathers had already passed, and Rowan found it quite humorous and endearing to see Remus so bashfully take on the paternal role. Julia had cried delicately as the bride and groom exchanged vows, and as they said, "I do," Rowan was filled with an overwhelming sense of satisfaction – something about the pair together simply seemed right.

The reception was located beneath a large illuminated tent in the countryside, boisterous and exciting, just as one would expect from a Marauders party. The champagne flowed freely, and Sirius made sure that everyone got up to dance at least for one song. Before the cake was cut, he gave a surprisingly appropriate and funny speech, poking jokes at mostly James' expense. Rowan then stood and gave a heartfelt toast, honestly expressing her long-felt thoughts that if anyone was meant to be together, it was James and Lily. The bride wiped away a few happy tears and hugged Rowan affectionately, and James embraced her fiercely, sharing a warm, knowing look that spoke to their lifelong friendship. Rowan felt a little ashamed at the small mourning feeling in her gut that told her that he was Lily's best friend now, not hers.

She danced several songs with Remus, then a couple with the other three Marauders and even forced Mad-Eye to join her for a slow song, which he grumbled and grunted about but humored her, much to the delight of the Order members, who all hooted and catcalled at him. Rowan hadn't felt so light in months.

Finally, her father pulled her away for a dance, and she felt slightly embarrassed but allowed him to lead her in a waltz. He looked very handsome in his dress robes, but she noted that his hair had turned quite gray through the stress of the recent months. His face had never held so many lines before - wouldn't he be turning seventy soon? They danced in silence for a while before he spoke quietly to her.

"James and Lily are quite young to be getting married," he noted.

Rowan smiled mildly and nodded. "Yeah, I thought so too, but it sort of makes sense, those two being together," she said softly, glancing at the newlyweds who were once again in their own world.

Richard nodded in response and paused for a moment before continuing. "You and the Lupin boy – are you planning on marrying him?" he asked slowly.

Rowan was taken aback by the sudden question and feared for a moment that he was going to start an argument with her in the middle of the party, but though his expression was slightly stiff, he didn't look angry at all. She relaxed and responded honestly, "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I suppose that'd be the most sensible and natural conclusion though."

He nodded slowly, taking in her words carefully, assessing them. "Alright," he said softly. Rowan looked at him in confusion – had he just give her his blessing to marry Remus?

"I still don't know how I feel about you being with someone with his condition but…" he trailed off for a moment and glanced at Remus, who was talking with Fabian and Gideon Prewett. "… He seems like a good man," he admitted, and Rowan beamed at her father. He smiled back at her warmly, melting at the sight of his daughter's happy expression, but then his face grew serious again. "But make sure that that's what he wants," he said solemnly. Rowan felt confused again. "Just because he loves you doesn't mean that he has any intention of committing to you completely. After all, he is a – _you know," _he said quietly. "I'm not saying that he's dishonorable," he rushed to clarify. "I'm just saying that he has very different circumstances to consider, and he might not see marriage in his future due to those circumstances."

Rowan felt her chest constrict. She'd never thought of it in that way and was struck by how thoroughly her father had thought it through. He was right, after all – Remus was an honorable man, but she'd never even considered how his condition might affect his views on marrying her. What if he hadn't even considered it? Would she be waiting for him forever? Should it even matter to her if he planned on marrying her officially?

Richard saw the understanding washing over his daughter's face and felt a pang of guilt at the hurt there. "I just want to make sure you're taken care of," he concluded softly, and she nodded slowly, head full and swimming with her new thoughts.

The song ended, and Rowan suddenly felt overwhelmed by the noise and number of people around her. Her father let her go with a sympathetic look but said nothing and walked off to find Carole. Rowan stood on the dance floor still and looked around her for a quiet place to hide away in for a bit. She saw a flap in the tent billowing in the summer breeze and made a beeline for it, ducking out and into the warm night air.

* * *

><p>Remus had been watching Rowan out of the corner of his eye all evening. She looked beautiful in the rare dress and heels with her hair liquidly falling about her and quietly cherished each smile and flare of skirt that she flashed. He had even enjoyed watching her dance with their other male friends and acquaintances despite his usual jealousy. Seeing her drag Mad-Eye onto the dancefloor had actually been quite entertaining.<p>

The past four months had been tense and cloudy. After her injury, he'd seen the dark shadows of fear in her and felt that icy chill crawl up his spine with dread. He held her late into the night even after she'd fallen asleep and memorized her face, the rhythm of her breathing. He'd come so close to losing her, and he hadn't been there to protect her like he'd sworn to himself. He went to Dumbledore and begged to be placed on more missions with her, but the Headmaster had cryptically responded with an indefinite answer, leaving him angry and fearful. The thought of her getting hurt again weighed down on him heavily, and though he tried to fight it, he felt like it might be the last time every time he touched her.

Seeing her so happy and carefree had been like a cool breeze of ocean air, but when her father had invited her to dance, he felt a strange dreading ache. He had been considerably warmer to Remus after John Potter had passed away, but he still saw the assessing looks the older man would shoot his way every so often and wondered what he really thought of him. He watched them speak quietly while they danced and admired the easy grace they shared – she truly was an aristocrat's daughter – but when he saw Rowan's face melt with concerned thoughts, he began to worry. Richard had glanced at him momentarily, and Remus had a terrible suspicion that they were talking about him. He was pleased to see that Richard's face held no malice or resentment, but Rowan's expression comforted him very little. When the older man left her on the dancefloor at the end of the song, she stood there lost in thought before looking around as if she'd forgotten where she was and then disappeared beyond the tent flaps without a sound.

He excused himself from his conversation with the Prewett brothers and made his way after her. He needed to know what had happened between her and her father.

* * *

><p>Rowan was sitting in the grass at the top of a nearby hill with her tall shoes tossed to the side. The tent was perched at the bottom, between a couple of small grassy waves in a large field, and she hoped that her position would allow her to avoid anyone from the party. She laid back in the grass and was reminded of her old spot in the Hogwarts grounds with Remus, though she mused that they always spent their time in the sun, not the moonlight.<p>

Marriage – it wasn't something she thought of often, and she'd never been the sort of little girl who'd imagined her dress or her groom in her private fantasies. She'd always enjoyed weddings, but for some reason, she'd never considered that one day _she'd_ be that blushing bride. Though she had always vaguely imagined that she would get married _eventually,_ sometimes she thought it would simply be out of obligation as a Delacroix. The idea gave her mixed feelings.

Remus had changed a lot of things in her opinions on marriage. When he said that he'd always love her, she'd just assumed that marriage was the logical conclusion, though it didn't much matter to her _when_ they married. She was in no rush, and she knew he was hers. It all just seemed like a matter of time.

But her father had brought up very valid questions. She hadn't even thought about how his opinions of marriage might differ from hers because of his condition. Would he want to have children? She knew from her research that it wouldn't affect his ability to reproduce, but he was already so guilt-ridden with her and even if there was no evidence of it affecting children, Remus might not want to risk passing his condition on to a child. Her stomach churned with dread – how would she ever convince him that he'd make a good husband, a good father, despite his handicap?

What if he had no intention of marrying her? Would he stay with her and just never make her his wife, or would he leave her eventually to be alone? Could she handle being his woman, but not his wife? Would she grow tired of waiting and leave him? The thought of any of it made her chest tighten. She spread her limbs out around her and stared at the moon. _Fuck the moon_, she thought bitterly, glaring up at it.

"It's dangerous to be out here alone, you know," a calm voice said from just below her.

Rowan raised her hand slightly in greeting but didn't look up. She knew who it was, had been able to tell by his footsteps. She wasn't sure if she was pleased or disappointed that he'd followed her out of the party.

Remus sat down next to her and slipped his jacket and shoes off as well before leaning back on his hands to gaze up at the moon with her. She noted that he hadn't worn socks, and she mused to herself that her dislike of the small article of clothing was beginning to rub off on him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before he asked the question she knew he'd been keeping to himself.

"So what were you and your dad talking about that made you come out here?" he asked quietly.

Rowan thought quietly for a moment without answering and considered her options. Should she tell him? She knew he'd be able to tell if she fed him a lie – would she be able to brush it off and evade the question long enough for him to lose interest?

She decided, _probably not_. "He asked me if I was going to marry you," she finally replied honestly, plainly.

Remus looked down at her and frowned but said nothing. She didn't look at him, afraid of what she'd see there if she looked too hard. She was determined not to elaborate any further unless he continued to pry – she didn't want to think too much about it if she didn't need to, and she didn't want to fight, at least not then.

"Is that it?" he continued. She grimaced inwardly – he _had_ to ask. She couldn't read his tone from the simple question and dreaded his reaction.

"No," she replied. She paused and considered her words before continuing. "He brought up some interesting questions I hadn't thought of, and it made me see that I'd been very inconsiderate, so I came out here to think," she said. It wasn't necessarily the full story, but she wasn't being dishonest.

Remus frowned again. "What questions?" he asked quietly. Rowan wanted to groan in frustration. Why did he have to keep prying?

"Questions about your opinions on marriage, I suppose," she responded. She figured he was going to keep asking until he got the full answers now, so there was no point in hiding them any longer. "He asked if I'd considered if you'd even _wanted_ to get married, and I realized I hadn't thought of it that way. I should have thought to ask you. I'd just assumed that we would, but that was sort of closed-minded of me," she said calmly, though she felt anything but calm. Her head was pounding in her skull and her chest felt tight.

Remus didn't respond, and she felt her stomach drop realizing that her father's questions had hit all the right points – Remus _didn't_ want to marry her. She blinked away the tears that stung at her eyes but she remained still, staring up at the sky. Logically, she knew it shouldn't matter as long as they were together, but something about the thought of him never committing to her fully sent a dull ache through her chest.

They remained there in silence, and Rowan hadn't felt so far from him since that hot May afternoon when he'd left her. They were just inches apart, but it felt like miles. Would she always be forced to keep her distance from him? Would he always keep her just within reach but never let her in?

Could she let him go when the time came?

The conclusiveness of the question struck her with bitterness – it just seemed like a matter of time before he decided he'd made her wait long enough and leave. She felt guilty – ashamed even – that she automatically assumed that he was just going to leave her again, permanently this time, but no matter how she rationalized it, if he wasn't going to marry her, she knew one of them would eventually have to end it.

She suddenly felt very cold, and she braced herself mentally with a shaky breath before sitting up from the grass. She reached up to comb out a few stray blades from her hair but forced herself to not look at Remus. Standing up slowly from the grass, she reached for her shoes quietly and stared around the field and up at the night sky. It was like they were the only two people awake in their little corner of the world.

"I'm going to head back to the tent," she said quietly, though she wasn't sure if it was to herself or to Remus. When he didn't respond or make a move to go with her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before setting a direct path for the slivers of light peaking from the white tent, choking back the tears that threatened to fall and feeling like the biggest fool in all of England.

* * *

><p>When Remus rejoined the party about fifteen minutes after Rowan, she still couldn't bring herself to look at him, and he didn't seek her out, though she felt his gaze on her.<p>

Luckily, all of their friends seemed too drunk or caught up in the Potters' happiness to notice the sudden rift between the pair. After another hour of forced smiles, she quietly said goodbye to the bride and groom and her parents and slipped out of the tent again, heading for the edge of the protective enchantments alone. She knew it wasn't safe during such dangerous times, but somehow, it didn't seem very important to her.

Remus didn't follow.

She fell asleep surprisingly quickly and dreamlessly, and when she woke the next day, he wasn't in bed next to her for the first time in weeks. She didn't see him again until the Order meeting the following Tuesday. She wasn't sure if she felt lonely or not.


	7. Of Being & Belonging

**A/N**: I haven't really been getting a whole lot of feedback... Is the story doing it for you?

**SOMEBODY WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Of Being and Belonging<strong>

The next couple of weeks after James and Lily's wedding passed quietly. The two left for their honeymoon right after the wedding, and the Order was strangely quiet without them. Rowan mused that she'd have to get used to saying Lily _Potter_ now, and she was amused that it sounded even more fitting than Evans. It just proved how perfect the pair was for each other.

Remus didn't bring up their mostly one-sided conversation at the wedding again. When she finally saw him at the next meeting, she still had a hard time maintaining eye contact with him. She knew he noticed – he always noticed – but he never mentioned anything, and she couldn't be sure if she felt relieved or hurt by it. He silently held her hand as they left and returned to her apartment with her that night, but he didn't make any moves to make love to her, just touching her tentatively and gently as he did when he was trying to win her back in their Seventh Year. It all felt like a matter of time before he left her again.

Sirius and Mina seemed to have noticed the heavy silence that had fallen upon their friends and invited them out to lunch a couple of weekends after, just before James and Lily were to return from their honeymoon. Rowan felt relieved knowing that the silence would be filled with Sirius' laughter and Mina's snarky comments and looked forward to spending time with them greatly, even if it meant forcing her interactions with Remus to look somewhat normal.

The four met at the Leaky Cauldron, and they immediately fell into easy conversation. They caught up on work updates and speculated jokingly about James and Lily's honeymoon escapades. As they finished their lunches and shared butterbeers, Rowan could almost pretend that they were all at Hogwarts again and that it was just like their afternoons in Hogsmeade. Even Remus looked relaxed.

But then Sirius' face took on a slightly more serious expression, though not grave, and grasped Mina's hand in his tightly. Rowan's chest constricted slightly at the small gesture – was it envy?

"We're going to move in together next month," he said seriously, but there was a fiery glint in his eyes. Mina smiled with barely contained excitement and gazed at their hands softly. They looked happy.

Rowan forced a grin to her face before she had time to think too much about it, and they seemed to buy it. Both looking somewhat relieved. She was glad that the movement of the muscles in her face looked like they were appropriately placed, even if it felt stiff.

"That's fantastic!" she said brightly. Remus' presence next to her felt painfully heavy again. "Have you found a place yet? Where do you want to move?"

They replied happily that they had already found a flat around the Ministry and invited her to come over as soon as they'd gotten settled. She offered to help them move in, and Sirius slapped her on the shoulder hard and laughed with gratitude, and Mina looked slightly annoyed at her boyfriend's shamelessness. It all seemed so normal. Remus remained mostly quiet, however, and Rowan knew that the other two were avoiding addressing him, both aware of the heaviness in him. She still hadn't looked at him, and she couldn't be sure if he was even trying to pretend to be happy for them.

When they finally got up to leave, Rowan found it slightly hard to breathe as it meant that she'd be left alone with Remus again. The four stood outside of the pub and shared hugs before parting ways till the next meeting the following week, all eager to see the newlyweds return. As she watched them walk away, Sirius draped an arm casually around Mina's shoulders, and she snaked an arm around his waist. She was struck by how beautiful and mature they both looked. When had they grown up? She wondered if anyone ever looked at her and Remus in that way.

She forced herself to look away from the quickly disappearing couple and up at Remus, who was gazing down at her so intensely that it startled her. She realized that she hadn't actually looked at him since the wedding, and his face looked much more mature than she'd remembered. Was she the only one who looked like a child still?

His gaze softened as she stared back at him. "Finally," he whispered. His voice seemed to graze her softly, though he didn't touch her. It was warm.

Rowan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Finally…?_

His mouth twitched slightly. "You haven't looked at me in weeks. I was beginning to think I'd become invisible to you," he breathed, and something in her chest twisted painfully. Had he been looking at her this entire time?

"I-" she started, unsure of what to say. It was true – she _hadn't_ seen him in weeks, despite being right next to him. She'd been analyzing Remus in her head without actually seeing him beside her, but now that she'd finally seen him again, she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from him. She felt incredibly guilty. "I had a lot to think about," she whispered.

He smiled sadly at her and raised a hand hesitantly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I know," he replied softly.

They stood in silence until he reached a hand out tentatively and laced her fingers with his. She looked down at their joined hands and noted how long his fingers were, how they engulfed her own. Why did she feel like such a child still when all of her friends and loved ones seemed to be aging at a different pace?

She looked back up at him, and he was still gazing at her ardently. It made her tremble slightly. "Let's go home," he said softly, squeezing her hand gently. Her mouth twitched – not quite a smile – and nodded, letting him lead her down the bustling London street. It was hot and crowded, but Rowan felt like she and Remus were once again the only two people in the world. It was still very lonely.

* * *

><p>June passed into July, and Rowan threw herself into her work with Belby. She knew they were close to something critical, but she couldn't be sure what. She and her master worked late into the night, running tests on mice injected with lycanthrope blood, and there was a quiet singing in her blood, in her bones. They were <em>so close<em> to something. Another few days, another few weeks, she kept telling herself. Any day now, they'd discover something critical, the right proportions or an ingredient they'd overlooked, but the days began to blur together in her mania, and she knew there was still something missing.

Despite the small understanding they seemed to have shared after lunch with Sirius and Mina, Remus and Rowan had returned to a dazed routine around each other. She no longer avoided his gaze, but it was as if there was a sad resignation that they both knew it was just a matter of time before whatever remained of their relationship fizzled away. He never brought up the topic of marriage again, and his silence on the matter served as further support that she'd never truly have him. In the nights that they didn't spend together, she would allow herself a few silent tears to mourn the life she thought she'd have but was trying desperately to force herself to let go.

_It wasn't supposed to happen like this though_, she thought to herself. Hadn't he said that he'd always love her? It wasn't an empty promise, and she still believed it – how could they both be so miserable if they still loved each other so much? Was his condition really so much of a problem, such a vital part of him, that they were destined to always be yearning for the other, but never touching? Had he always been aware of it and she'd just been too naïve to see it? Why hadn't he warned her?

But hadn't he sort of always been trying to tell her? From the very start, she'd been the one to push her feelings onto him, forcing him to be with her, forcing him to accept his own desires that he'd been burying away his entire life. But she'd pushed and pushed, and he'd relented. Did he ever resent her? Did he sometimes look at her with bitterness, knowing that she'd put them in this mess? Wasn't it really all her fault, her selfishness?

Rowan snapped out of her dark thoughts at the sound of a shrieking, "Customer! Customer!" from above Belby's lab. Someone had entered the apothecary.

"Go see what that bird is yapping about, will you?" Belby grumbled from his cauldron.

Rowan stood from her stool, sighing and rubbing her eyes blearily. She had been barely sleeping that week, and Remus had quietly scolded her the night before. As she walked up the stairs from the basement, she pulled a breath in deeply and slapped her cheeks lightly, hoping the energy from her hands would help move her face into normal expressions for the customer.

As she turned the corner from the back room, she saw Belby's Augurey Alexander peering morosely with his beady eyes at a corner of the shop, watching the customer browse through the various potions. She scratched him affectionately on the head before moving toward the man, who was hunched with grizzly gray hair and a wooden leg – it was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Alastor!" she called, feeling suddenly very bright at the sight of the older man. He was such an intimidating man, but she always felt so pleased to see him. He turned and his electric blue eye scanned over her face for a moment before smiling crookedly at her.

"Good to see you, girl. Working hard?" he asked gruffly. He looked over her face again. "Not sleeping much, I see."

She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, been really into my work recently. Master Belby and I have gotten a really good rhythm in our research," she said fervently.

He nodded approvingly and looked at her proudly. "Ever the diligent one, as always. I wish I could say the same about your mate Black," he growled. She laughed fondly.

"So what brings you here, Moody?" she asked quietly. The Aurors typically had their own potioneers brew for them specially, so it was bizarre to see the old man in the apothecary. He either needed something very specific or was there on Order business. She felt herself bristle a bit.

The Auror let out a frustrated sigh. "Crabbe and Goyle have gotten out of a conviction. They're pleading Imperius Curse," he said quietly, bitterly.

Rowan let out a shaky breath and felt anger seething in her blood. The older man shared a flicker of anger with her and continued, "They're going to be released tomorrow, so keep your eyes open. They're already suspecting that your family is involved with the Order and may start targeting you and your parents next. Kingsley and I think the hit on the Potters might have been an act of retribution for the Macdougal mission."

Rowan's felt the blood drain from her face at the thought of John Potter. Julia's disposition had improved over the past few months, especially after James and Lily's wedding, but she still hurt for the older woman. Would her parents be next?

Moody nodded gravely, as if reading her thoughts. "Be extra cautious when traveling. If you need to stay late at work, have Lupin meet you and leave with him or send for one of the other Order members. Remember: _constant vigilance!_" he whispered roughly.

Rowan's blood was boiling. She nodded her head jerkily in understanding, trying desperately to restrain herself from punching the wall. He squeezed her arm reassuringly before heading out the door, and with a faint ring, he was gone.

Mr. Potter might have been killed because James' involvement in the order. She thought of Alfred and her parents at home and felt an icy chill crawl up her spine. Should she get them into hiding? She didn't think she'd have to take such precautions so early on, but she should've realized that the Dark Lord's supporters would find out sooner, rather than later.

But she didn't have much time to think about it. Suddenly, Rowan felt a heavy pressure and looked up to see Belby standing in the doorway from the backroom staring at her with a murderous look in his eyes. She felt the blood drain from her face – how long had he been there? She heard him breathe harshly, and his eyes were wide with rage, his face shaking in the way she'd only seen when his experiments had been going poorly.

"You," he breathed shakily. "_You!_" Rowan trembled slightly at the venom in his voice.

"You're working with that _damn Order!_ I _knew_ I shouldn't have taken Dumbledore's advice about hiring you. How could I have not _known_ that he'd push for one of his underlings to work for me!" His voice continued to rise in volume as he spoke, and he face turned red with rage. He pushed past the doorway and stormed towards her. She was frozen to the spot.

He grabbed her arm roughly and thrust his face into hers, spitting slightly in anger. "You are _fired!_ I will _not_ endanger _everything _I've worked for with some- some _stupid vigilante!_" he shouted at her.

His words sank in slowly, and the icy fear she'd felt melted away into a heated anger. Her nostrils flared indignantly and she yanked her arm from his grasp.

"You can't fire me!" she shouted back. Her sudden lashing back startled him for a brief second before his anger returned, but she continued. "This is just as much _my_ work now as it is yours! Just because _you're_ too cowardly to fight doesn't mean that people aren't out there suffering! I'm staying, and I'm _not_ quitting the Order!" She was bristling with anger.

Belby roared with rage and shook her by the shoulders violently. The fear returned momentarily before she pushed her anger forward again. "You _stupid girl!_" he screamed. "Get out! GET OUT!"

Rowan pried herself from his vice grip and shoved him off of her hard so that he stumbled backward. "FINE, I'M LEAVING!" she shrieked. "But you're making a _huge_ mistake, Belby! You will _never_ find that cure without me!" His eyes were still wide with rage, and he roared again, punching the wall behind him so that the glass bottles around the shelves chimed and clinked loudly. A few fell to the ground and shattered, splattering the floor with green and brown liquids.

She pushed past him and grabbed her bag from the back room before sprinting out of the shop. Alexander squawked noisily as she slammed the door behind her. As she burst from the dark shop, various wizards and witches jumped at her violence, and she stormed through them while furiously wiping away angry tears, not looking back.

* * *

><p>Rowan walked and walked for what seemed like hours until the sun was low in the sky. It was unbearably hot, and she was covered in a thin film of sticky sweat, but she couldn't seem to stop herself or figure out where she was going. She continued to trudge along with fatigue, her legs numb and feet aching, until she found herself on an old bridge close to Remus' apartment.<p>

She leaned against the railing and looked out onto the river below her, which glittered with the low sun. It'd been a few weeks since she'd been there. She wasn't exactly sure why she was there to begin with – she hadn't sought him out for comfort about anything since the wedding, so why had her feet taken her there? She wasn't even sure if she wanted to see him.

The summer sun hung low and red – it must be very late. A dull ache of guilt shot through her. She hadn't told anyone where she was going, and Moody had said to be careful. The guilt was enough to convince her to pull out the key to Remus' apartment that he'd given her when he'd moved out of his parents' house. It was so normal looking, so plain, and yet just the very thought of it made her chest tighten.

The night before they'd left Hogwarts, he asked if she'd ever consider moving in with him, and when they'd moved into their respective flats, they'd traded keys without even asking. It had just seemed like the natural thing to do. They came and went from each other's places casually, and she'd even spent a few nights in his flat alone when he'd left for his monthly transformations, comforting herself in the scent of his belongings and the idea that she belonged to him as well.

But she wasn't sure anymore if it was reciprocated. Had he _ever_ belonged to her? Was there _anything_ that she could rightfully even call hers anymore? She'd even lost her job. All of her research was with Belby - could she return to the apothecary and demand for it back? It was not as if she could go through their notes and take back the information that she'd found - their notes and research were so blurred together that it'd be impossible.

Could she force him to take her back? He really had no grounds to fire her, after all, but he wasn't the kind of man who would take back anything he said in anger - he was much too proud. Despite all the work she'd done over the past two years, she had nothing to show for it. She lowered her head to the railing slowly, defeatedly. The hot tears stung at her eyes, and she let a few fall, seeping into the concrete.

After a few moments, she looked up and saw that the sun had hit the horizon - it really was late. Remus' key dug into her palm, which she had balled into a fist without realizing it. The markings of the key's teeth were red in her skin, and she thought of his fresh cuts after the night of the full moon.

For the first time in a while, she bitterly resented his condition and all that came with it. If it weren't for the damned moon and his affliction, they could be together, she wouldn't have had to work for such a terrible man, and they might also be moving in together just like Mina and Sirius. There would be no need for her to have an extra key to his apartment, and she wouldn't be standing alone on this bridge crying over Damocles Belby.

She inhaled deeply and stood up straight, looking up at the sky. The moon had appeared, faint and translucent in the evening sky. It was swelling again - Remus would be gone for a night within the coming week. She sighed again and began walking. She should go see him. After all, who knew how long she would even have that key anymore?


	8. Of Accepting One's Role

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! I AM NEEDY AND REQUIRE VALIDATION!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Of Accepting One's Role<strong>

Remus stepped into the apothecary at around 6 p.m. for the first time since Rowan had begun working there. It was darker than he'd remembered. Fabian had informed him at work that Moody wanted to heighten protection for Rowan as he had his suspicions that the Delacroixs were being watched. The anxious feeling that had settled into his stomach surged up into his throat as he saw several glass bottles littered around the floor of the shop in shattered pieces.

_Where was Rowan?_

"Rowan!" he shouted, panicking. He moved quickly toward the back room.

"You're too late, boy!" a deep voice grunted out from the back stairs. Belby emerged from below with a venomous look on his face. Remus took a step back for a moment at the frightening man before moving forward again, suddenly angry.

_"__What do you mean?"_he demanded, his voice raising.

Belby barked with humorless laughter. "She's gone! I fired her this afternoon!" he said angrily. He turned to look at Remus and scanned him over critically. "_You –_you're in that damned Order as well, aren't you?" he accused.

Remus didn't answer – Belby already knew. "You fired her because she's in the Order?" he asked indignantly, eyes narrowing scathingly. "How could you do that? She's worked herself to _death _for you!" he shouted at the older man.

Belby laughed derisively again. "I don't need some wannabe vigilante _child_ in my lab! If you all want to play superhero, you can get the hell out of my shop!"

Remus was about to start into him again when Belby's eyes widened and his hand shot out, grabbing Remus by the jaw in a bruising grip.

"_What are you-" _he shouted, clawing into the man's grip.

"_Don't move, boy!_" Belby barked at him commandingly, and Remus stilled, breathing hard and glaring at the older man, wand armed in his hand.

Belby's eyes scanned over the younger man's face, and his eyes widened slowly with recognition. Remus saw the Potion Master's gaze peel over the cuts on his face and lingered on the long scar along his jaw. The blood drained from his face. He knew he'd been found out.

"It's you," Belby breathed. "You're the one," he whispered almost inaudibly. His hand released Remus' face suddenly, and he stumbled backward as if Remus had struck him.

Remus watched the man with wide eyes, fearful that he'd lash out at him, throw him out of the apothecary with accusations of fear and anger. But the man gripped the wall behind him and stared blankly at the wall above him, unseeing and unmoving.

Finally, he spoke, "Get out." His voice was so quiet that Remus thought he might have imagined it, but then Belby's eyes moved back towards his face and the anger was there again. "Get out!" he said louder.

Remus didn't need to be told again. He turned quickly and ran through the door out into the yellow sun, leaving Belby in the dark shop alone.

* * *

><p>Remus was beginning to panic. He had gone straight to Rowan's flat as soon as he left Belby's apothecary, but it had been empty. Where could she have gone?<p>

He suddenly felt very lonely – he hadn't really seen over the past couple of weeks, the rift between him and Rowan growing steadily. Ever since the Potters' wedding and their quiet conversation in the grass, she'd been slowly drifting away, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to pull her back to him. He didn't feel like he deserved to.

Marriage – it'd been a question in his mind since James had told him his plan to propose to Lily the previous autumn, but he'd pushed it back as best as he could until it seemed like the wedding preparations had taken over all of their lives. He'd had no choice but to consider his future with Rowan then, and when he saw Lily in her white dress, he couldn't help but imagine a certain dark-haired girl in one instead.

But he was a werewolf. His kind didn't marry, at least to normal witches and wizards. Every other werewolf he'd ever met was alone – wasn't that indication enough that he would never be able to marry Rowan, to have children with her? But even so, even knowing this, he'd stayed with her, asked her to be with him again. It was the pinnacle of selfishness, but every time he saw her speak to another man, the darkness in him would roar deafeningly, and he knew he couldn't just let her go.

But he hadn't been able to deny her sad thoughts that night, and as he saw her blink away her tears, thinking that he wasn't watching, he felt his stomach churn and wanted to fall at her feet and beg her to forgive him for all the ways he would still hurt her. She'd walked away without accusing words or even mentions of hurt, and he hated himself even more.

For weeks, she didn't look at him, and he began to fear that he might have disappeared without realizing it. She barely made an indication that she knew he was even there, and though it stung deeply, he was too afraid to reach out to her – didn't she have every right to leave him?

Yes, she did, but he knew he'd always chase her to the ends of the earth, just for a glimpse of her. Even as dim as it had been over the past weeks, her light was enough to sustain him for days. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny the fact that he needed her, much more than she needed him, and even though he always knew deep down that he'd probably have to leave her, he didn't think the end would come so soon.

When Sirius and Mina invited them out, he was silently grateful to their friends since it meant that he'd be able to see her lively and smiling again instead of the cold, silent daze she'd taken on when they were alone. But when Sirius announced that he and Mina were moving in together, he felt the same loneliness in his chest, only magnified. He saw the momentary tenseness in Rowan's shoulders before she forced a smile to her face, and he was amazed at how convincing it had been. Even _he_ had been nearly fooled by her act and was so startled by it that he couldn't muster the effort to pretend to be happy for them as well.

Though she'd begun to acknowledge him again after that afternoon, he still felt the division between them and wondered if she was slowly letting go of him finally. He supposed she deserved to move on, to find someone who could proudly call her his, who wouldn't be afraid to give her his name, but he couldn't bring himself to do the honorable thing and break up with her. Instead, he listlessly dangled from her fingers and prayed that he could hang on a little longer.

_But where was she?_

The sun was beginning to set, and the panic settled into his bones. He felt as if he'd know by now if something had happened to her, but the fact that he couldn't find her sent a chill through him – did she just not want to see him? But really, when was the last time she'd _seen_ him? He felt incredibly lonely and wanted to be with her desperately.

He sighed dejectedly and decided to go back to his apartment – she'd come find him when she was ready.

* * *

><p>Rowan had been in Remus' flat alone for about thirty minutes before he came home. She sat on the edge of his bed, which she felt almost guilty about – for some reason, she felt like she didn't belong there. It was strange though – Remus had left the sheets messy and undone. He was usually so neat, obsessive almost at times. She sometimes wondered how he could stand being in her space when she was so blasé about organizing her own things.<p>

She looked around the apartment and noted that it was all messier than usual. It certainly was still much neater than hers, but there were a few shirts lying over a chair, and a couple of dirty socks were messily scattered across the floor by his bed. She almost felt like it wasn't even his place anymore. The air tasted stale.

When she heard the metal clinking of a key in the door, she jumped slightly and pulled out her wand reflexively but remained sitting. Remus opened the door quietly and immediately saw her on his bed, his eyes wide and face disbelieving. She was startled that she was there as well. It suddenly occurred to her how strange it was for her to be in his apartment when she had been avoiding it for so long.

He stood in the doorway for a moment with the door still open and stared at her dumbly, trying to determine whether or not she was actually there. She smiled weakly at him, suddenly very aware of her swollen eyes and sweaty skin, but at the slight twitching of her mouth, he slammed the door shut behind him. In an instant, he'd moved to the bed, falling to his knees in front of her and pulling her towards him roughly, burying his face in her neck. She nearly fell off with her rear perched on the very edge and let out a yelp of surprise. She flinched at the sound of her own voice.

Remus' hands clung to her, tangling in her clothes. He breathed deeply into her neck, and she worried vaguely about the thin film of sweat that she'd developed in the summer heat. He didn't seem to care though and kept his face there.

She suddenly didn't know what to do with her hands. Hadn't she always held him when this had happened before? She wrapped her arms hesitantly around his shoulders, and his grip on her tightened. Slowly, it felt more and more familiar, and she suddenly didn't know why she'd felt so awkward before – it had always been this way.

Another wave of grief hit her as she realized that, despite the inevitability of losing him, still nothing had changed – she was just as madly in love with him as she'd been at fifteen, and the thought sent another surge of hot tears to her eyes. She had tried so hard for the past month to push him away, but he shattered all of her efforts with one embrace. It was infuriating, maddening. She wanted to shove him away from her and scream at him, curse him, but she knew she'd always be there waiting for him to come back to her, quietly, sadly, always.


	9. Of Honor in Bravery & Justice for All

**A/N**: Seriously, guys? **sarahmichellegellarfan1**, you're the fucking best. I'm also extremely confused as to why I haven't been getting reviews... It's kind of lonely...

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Of Honor in Bravery and Justice for All<strong>

"You all have to go into hiding," Rowan said firmly.

"Absolutely not," replied Richard Delacroix.

Rowan had gone to her parents' home the evening after Belby had sacked her to speak to them about going into hiding. As soon as she'd calmed enough to consider Moody's words to her the previous afternoon, she knew that she had to protect the older Delacroixs – how could she live with herself if something happened to them, knowing that they were in danger? She had expected them to fight her on it and came ready for a battle, but she knew she was already losing, badly.

"_Dad_," she begged, but the older man had barely even looked up from his paper to discuss it with her. Carole continued reading her book, not even acknowledging the conversation. Desperation washed over her.

"Dad_, just listen to me!" _she said, pleading. How could they be so cavalier about this? "Moody said that Voldemort's supporters already suspect us. They know I'm with the Order! I _need_ to get you into hiding! Please!"

But her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Her mother turned a page quietly, and though her father's eyebrows furrowed slightly, he made no response. Why was this happening? Had they forgotten that they were at war?

"Listen to me! These people _killed John!_" she exclaimed shrilly. "They almost murdered Julia as well! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

He slammed his newspaper down. The sudden noise startled her, but the icy daggers in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. She knew logically that he was a much more vicious man than he showed at home, always doting on her, but she had never imagined his face could take on such a frigid expression.

"Don't speak to me about John Potter," he said, deathly calm. He'd never spoken to her so coldly, and she suddenly saw a glimmer of the high-ranking Ministry official that he hid away while at home.

"But-" she started weakly.

"_Don't!"_ he shouted. His eyes softened slightly at the sight of his daughter trembling, but he maintained his hard stance. Carole closed her book calmly and looked up to look at Rowan seriously. "How can you? How can you expect me to go into hiding like some- some _coward_?" he spat.

Rowan froze, suddenly ashamed. Even her parents were willing to fight, even though they were old and frail. Was she the only Order member who was afraid?

"I will not run and hide from the bastards who _murdered_ my oldest friend. _I will not!_" he shouted. Carole had closed her eyes calmly but sat straight in her chair. Rowan was struck by how regal both of her parents looked. She felt extremely shabby and cowardly in comparison.

"But Dad," she whimpered, "I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you because of me! Please!" She inwardly beat herself for sounding so weak. _Damn it!_ She felt stinging in her eyes and blinked them away furiously. She would _not_ cry in front of her parents like this! When had she become so weak, so pathetic? Hadn't she been prepared for this?

"Rowan," her mother finally spoke, opening her eyes to look fiercely at her daughter. She had never seen so much fire in the older woman. Why hadn't she inherited her courage as well as her intellect?

"We know," she said gravely. "We know you worry, but if you're going to keep fighting, then we're staying.

"We're old," she continued, softly. "We can't fight the way we used to, but we've already lived our lives and made our peace with our choices. We're staying," she finished firmly. Richard gazed fiercely at Carole with a burning pride, and Rowan thought of the way James looked at Lily.

"She's right. Besides," he added gruffly, "I'll never be able to face John in the afterlife if I go into hiding now. That old bastard would never let me live it down."

He grinned roguishly at her. She stared blankly back - had she really lost so quickly? It was as if he'd fast forwarded through their entire argument, and she was lagging behind. She couldn't even work up the effort to understand how their conversation had ended so decisively without so much as a battle from her. She suddenly felt very overwhelmed. Her mother smiled and stood from her chair, sighing.

"Well, it's getting late. Better go save Remus from Alfred before that man-eater decides to make him his new plaything," she said wryly. Rowan stood as well in a daze, saying goodbye to her father confusedly. As she walked out of the drawing room with her mother, she glanced above the doorway at the sight of the Delacroix coat of arms. Across the top it read, "_Honor in Bravery and Justice for All_." Her chest twisted painfully. She couldn't be sure if she should feel proud or afraid.

* * *

><p>When Rowan entered the kitchen, Remus and Alfred were seated at the table laughing. Alfred was relaying an amusing story from Rowan's childhood, and Remus leaned forward on his elbows eagerly, a grin plastered on his face.<p>

"What're you telling him now, you old tart?" her mother asked smartly.

Alfred looked up and grinned at her. "Oh, nothing important," he replied cheekily, "I was just telling young Master Lupin here about little Winnie's tantrum when she was seven and you told her that she couldn't wear boys' trousers to your cousin Louis' wedding." He grinned at Rowan. "Such a little tomboy you were," he sighed dramatically, as if reminiscing.

Rowan glared at him then looked to Remus. He couldn't read the expression on her face – had she been able to convince her parents to go into hiding or not?

"Time to go," she said to him, and he nodded.

The nonchalant look on Carole's face said that Rowan hadn't been successful, but she looked strangely comfortable for a woman whose daughter had just told her she was in mortal danger. He still couldn't understand this family.

"Be sure to come back soon, dears. Bring James and Lily along as well. I still have to give them their wedding present," she said, following them down the hall to the door.

Remus worked up the courage to ask the obvious question. "I take it you're staying then?" Remus said slowly, glancing at Rowan, who was frowning slightly.

Carole smiled. "Yes, we're old, but we're no cowards. Besides, what kind of Gryffindor runs in the middle of battle?" she said smartly. Remus smiled fondly at the older woman. The more he got to know her, the more he realized from where Rowan inherited her spark, though the younger woman's face held a grimace at her mother's words.

They waved goodbye to Mrs. Delacroix and Alfred and stepped out into the warm night. He was startled to feel Rowan's fingers grasp his own hesitantly. He looked down at her, confused, and she looked up shyly. She blushed in a way that he hadn't seen since their Hogwarts days, and he couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. He gripped her hand tightly and Disapparated back to London.

* * *

><p>"You have to go back to Belby," Remus said quietly.<p>

He and Rowan were lying in his bed together face to face, both bare. They'd made love to each other for the first time in weeks, and Rowan was struck by how incomplete she felt. Remus had been gentler than ever, but as she looked at him in the white glow from the window, she couldn't help but feel a small hint of dread bloom in her stomach again. She was still in love with him, painfully so, and it was making it all the harder to let go of him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

He smiled gently and reached up to brush some hair from her face. Her eyes closed instinctively. It was too warm, too much. Her chest hurt.

She opened her eyes as he answered, "You can't let it end here. You have to go back."

Her lip quivered. "But he doesn't want me there, and isn't he right? I'd be endangering everything he's been working for. He's not like my parents – he doesn't want to fight. I can't force that on him," she whispered sadly.

He smiled thinly. "Yeah, but he can't do it without you. And you've come so far already. How can you give up now?"

She couldn't stop the trembling of her chin, and a couple of tears escaped. He reached up and wiped them away before pulling her into his chest. He was so warm. It engulfed her, overwhelming.

How was it that he always knew what she needed, except when it came to himself? It was unfair, cruel even. She knew he was right – she had to go back to Belby – but the thought of confronting the Potions Master made her breath run short. She wanted to go back, but how would she ever convince him to change his mind?

Remus ran his hands slowly through her hair as she fell asleep. Her mind was a haze of memories of shouting, and she couldn't differentiate her father's voice from Belby's. She dreamt of broken glass and roaring lions.

* * *

><p>Rowan stood outside of the apothecary two days later wringing her hands nervously. She stared at the door with a sickening churning in her stomach. The last time she'd felt so overwhelmingly nervous was right before she took her Potions N.E.W.T. She hadn't been able to eat breakfast out of fear that she'd throw it up, but even still, her innards felt like they were turning inside out.<p>

Remus had convinced her to return to Belby's shop, but now that she was there, she didn't know if she could even enter. From the outside, it didn't appear any different from when she'd left. Had it all just been a terrible dream? She almost imagined him sitting in the lab waiting for her.

She took a shaky breath and straightened herself resolutely, moving towards the door and entering the shop. She hoped the trembling in her hands would stop.

* * *

><p>Rowan had entered the basement lab with a nod to Alexander, who had eyed her cautiously but didn't announce her arrival. She was grateful for it – the squawking would have rattled her already delicate nerves. But as she moved down the stairs to the basement, stepping loudly enough to allow Belby proper notice, the older man had dropped his notes and glared venomously at her.<p>

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" growled Belby.

She froze for a moment mid-stair but gathered up her courage and rushed down the rest before she could lose her nerve.

"I'm here to work," she declared fiercely, squaring her shoulders and drawing herself up. She hoped that she looked taller.

"Like hell you are! Unless you quit that damn Order, then you're not welcome here!" he said, turning back to the books on his table.

Rowan's nostrils flared defiantly. "I'm not quitting at the Order, nor am I quitting as your apprentice. I'm here to stay, and there's nothing you can do about it!" she said, though she didn't feel nearly as confident as she sounded. She prayed that he didn't notice the shaking in her legs.

He slammed his fist on the table in anger. The sound made her jump slightly. He roared, "_You stupid girl!_ Arrogant, selfish! Do you know how long I've been working on this cure? You were still _in diapers_ when I started this! I will not risk _everything_ for your stupidity!"

She trembled but drew herself up again. She _was_ being selfish – he was right and the guilt ate at her – but this was it.

"I don't care! I told you I'm going to help you find that cure, and _you can't stop me!"_ she shouted back.

He roared in frustration and threw a giant book at the wall, and she jumped at the sudden violence. It crumpled to the ground, spine broken and pages spilling out in a mess of tears and creases.

"_Stop you? _STOP YOU?" he roared. "This is MY laboratory and I want you GONE!" She could see a vein throb in his red forehead. It looked as if blood might burst from his eyes.

"NO!" she screamed back. "You WILL take me back, even if I have to _fight you!"_

He screamed in frustration and pushed her so violently that she lost her balance and fell to the ground painfully. Terror seized her – was he going to attack her? She groped for her wand, but just as she'd pointed it up to defend herself, he'd already begun stomping up the stairs. She heard loud thundering of feet and then a slam of the door. He was suddenly gone.

Her head pounded with the deafening sound of her own heart. The silence was loud, and she listened hard with bated breath, expecting him to come storming back in, perhaps with Ministry officials. But he didn't return.

She looked about her, suddenly aware of her surroundings. Nothing had changed since she'd left a few days prior, even her own workspace. She'd expected the cauldrons and test tubes to be gone or broken, but they looked exactly as she'd left them – had he known all along that she'd come back?

The feeling in Rowan's limbs faintly returned. She noted that she hadn't felt them at all since Belby had thrown her to the side as he stormed out. She also felt a slight ache at her hip – she'd have a bruise there soon.

The book Belby had thrown was still in a heap on the ground. Rowan pulled herself up and forward and crawled toward it slowly. She recognized it as one she'd found at the London Wizarding Library a few months prior. The Potions Master had been pleased with her find and had even given her a few rare words of praise. A slight warmth spread through her chest at the memory.

"_Reparo,"_ she whispered, waving her wand over the book. The pages slithered back into the bindings as the spine twitched and straightened back out. She gathered it up gingerly and stood slowly, placing it back on the table. She moved to the notes Belby had been looking over and saw that he'd made some progress since she'd left. Her eyes scanned through the detailed schedule he'd laid out for himself, memorizing the agenda quickly before turning back to her work station – even if he'd left, she'd come back to work, and she was determined to have as much done as possible by the time he returned.

* * *

><p>Remus entered the apothecary again at 6 p.m. and looked around for Rowan.<p>

"Customer! Customer!" cried Alexander, and he cringed at the bird's shrill voice. He heard shuffling from the basement.

"Rowan?" he called cautiously.

"Who's there? Remus?" he heard her call up. "I'll be up in a second!"

He felt himself release the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She sounded much better than she had in the morning, and the fact that he wasn't already being shouted at by the rough Potions Master was a good sign that things had gone well. He couldn't help but smile as she appeared from the stairwell.

She smiled back and ran into his arms happily. He hadn't seen her looking so pleased in months. His smile stretched into a grin, and he squeezed her tightly.

"So everything went okay then?" he asked hopefully as she pulled away.

Her face scrunched up, and he was suddenly confused. "Well, not exactly," she said slowly. He frowned. "He yelled at me and then stormed out this morning. I haven't seen him since."

His frown deepened. "Why are you so happy then?" he asked. This was ludicrous.

She laughed brightly. The sound was precious. "I don't know!" she exclaimed brightly. He was flummoxed. "But I've been working all day, and I have a good feeling," she said. Her arms were still around his waist, and she squeezed him lightly again.

Remus' frown remained, but for some reason, he trusted her strange optimism and nodded slowly. "Okay… Well, are you ready to go home then or do you want me to come back later?" he asked carefully.

She shook her head jerkily. "No, I'm going to work through the night here. I have a lot to catch up on from the past few days, and I want to make sure I'm here when he returns," she said quickly.

Remus took in her words, and though the thought of leaving her there alone all night disturbed him slightly, he melted at the determined look on her face. He knew he couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, but will you send me a Patronus in the morning before I leave for work so that I know you're all right? And you have to promise to let me know if you decide to leave sometime in the night, so I can come get you," he said sternly.

She nodded fervently and rose up on her toes to kiss him softly. His hands shot to her face reflexively and deepened it. She hadn't kissed him in such a way in ages, and he wanted to savor it as long as possible.

When she pulled away, a light pink dusted her cheeks, and he had to smile at her sudden shyness.

"Alright, get back to work. Let me know if anything happens, okay?" he said quietly. She nodded and smiled softly.

"I love you, Remus," she whispered.

Her sudden declaration startled him, but her earnestness shot a flare of heat through him. He beamed at her and leaned down to kiss her again. He thought his heart might explode.


	10. Of Intimacy through Pain

**A/N**: Things start getting dark from here.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Of Intimacy through Pain<strong>

Remus stood in the kappa sanctuary at the ICE, scribbling some notes into his notebook when Fabian Prewett appeared beside him.

"Lupin, my boy! How are you today?" his voice boomed. Remus jumped and the sudden noise, and the kappa he'd been observing dropped the cucumber Remus had lured him out with and scurried away, diving back into the water.

Remus sighed as he saw the creature disappear but then turned back to his boss. "Doing well – making some good progress today. How are you?" he replied calmly, steadying his heart rate from the initial shock of the older man's abrupt appearance.

"Good, good!" he responded jovially. "Me, I've been feeling a bit antsy today – decided to take a walk and check on all of you."

He then glanced around him discreetly and lowered his voice. "How was your monthly the other night?" he asked quietly.

Remus smiled warmly at the older man's concern. "It was good," he replied. "No new scratches for the first time in a while. Rowan was very pleased."

Fabian beamed. "You've got a good one there. Damn sharp she is," he said fiercely. Remus couldn't help but nod in agreement.

After he'd gone to see her at the apothecary upon her first day back, she'd stayed the entire night. As he was dressing for work the next morning, the door to his apartment opened, and she stumbled in half asleep. Belby had returned to the lab that morning as if nothing had happened, though he'd shoved her out of the shop and told her to get some sleep and return the next day. He hadn't seen her look so happy in months, though they both were dying to know what had happened to make Belby change his mind.

She'd slept into the afternoon there, and he returned in the evening before leaving for his monthly transformation to see her. She greeted him happily and kissed him goodbye as he left, and somehow, everything seemed very normal. He thought sadly that it was if they were a married couple and then berated himself for even imagining it – no matter how wonderful it seemed, he couldn't get his hopes up for long.

As he thought about the gentle way she'd tucked him into bed upon his return home the next morning, a silvery haze burst through the wall, earning a few gasps and shouts from his coworkers. He felt a surge of dread shoot through him as it approached him. It solidified into an owl in front of him and Fabian.

"_Your mother has collapsed. We're at St. Mungo's. Please don't panic, but come as soon as you get out of work. See you soon_," Lyall's voice echoed from it softly before the bird stretched its wings and dissolved into the air.

Remus felt the air in his lungs shrivel up, and the blood drained from his face. A strong hand grabbed his arm. He looked over to see Fabian looking at him fiercely.

"I'll send word to Rowan. Go see your mother," he said quietly but sternly. Remus felt himself nodding before he could even think and grasped Fabian's hand with gratitude before turning and running out the door. As soon as he hit the pavement outside, he Disapparated for St. Mungo's.

* * *

><p>Rowan sped through the halls of the hospital searching for the waiting room. She'd already been to two, neither of which had been the right ones apparently, and she was beginning to grow flustered. Why was this place such a damn maze?<p>

She sped past a bright room and had to stop and turn back when she realized she'd missed it in her loud internal rant. Remus and Lyall were sitting there, both looking haggard and distressed. Lyall looked up and saw her, standing to his feet first.

"Rowan," he breathed, grasping her shoulder. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course," she said softly. "Is she okay? What's happened?" She forced the panic down. They didn't need to deal with a hysterical woman on top of everything else.

Remus had stood after his father. "Stroke," he choked out, moving towards her. His father let her go, and she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply, shakily. She felt him tremble and had to push back her fear again.

When he pulled away, Lyall continued. "Healers say it was stress. Apparently there's been an increase in them as the war has gotten worse. She should be okay, but we don't know how it'll affect her yet. She's still in intensive care," he explained quietly.

Rowan nodded gravely and sat down with Remus. Lyall excused himself to get some fresh air. She laced her fingers with the young man's and squeezed his hand.

She wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything at all. He wasn't a man who appreciated flowery words, and she felt like it'd be inappropriate and dishonest to tell him it would all be okay. She leaned her head against his shoulder and hoped that her warmth might reach him and prayed that they wouldn't lose yet another loved one to the dark days they were in.

* * *

><p>Leanna Lupin remained delicate after her stroke but had recovered just enough to speak and sit up to see visitors, though not many as it tired her out quickly. The incident had cost her control over her left arm, and Rowan could still see her sometimes look at it mournfully. Her eyebrows would sometimes furrow with concentration, and she knew the older woman was trying desperately to move it, even slightly. It broke her heart to see the once lively woman so restrained.<p>

She'd also begun having trouble remembering certain things, though they tended to be small. The most painful part was seeing the frustration on her face as she realized that she'd forgotten something else. Her face would screw up as she scoured her mind for the memories. She said it was as if they were just within reach, but for some reason, she couldn't grasp them. Rowan hoped that it wouldn't spread to more critical memories.

It was September, and the leaves on the trees outside had just begun to turn yellow. There was a large oak tree outside of Leanna's hospital room window, and the two women had taken to opening up the window to let the still warm breeze and a few golden leaves come in as they sat together during Rowan's visits. Rowan had even brought her mother a couple of times. They'd met on a couple of occasions before, but now the two older women seemed to share a dark understanding – both knew the agony of losing the bodies they'd always known, and though it pained her with guilt, a part of Rowan was extremely pleased that they could share such a deep intimacy so quickly.

Rowan had begun working again at the apothecary, and her research with Belby had been speeding along. She felt a frenetic energy in the laboratory and knew they were so _close_ to a breakthrough. After he'd returned from his strange disappearance the day she'd come back, he made no mention of their fight or that he'd fired her at all. He simply told her to shove off for the rest of the day - that she was no use to him tired - and to come back the next day. It was almost frightening how nonchalant he was about it all, but she figured it was best not to question his good graces when he offered them so readily. After all, she had her job back, and wasn't that what mattered?

The mania she'd felt that day alone in the lab had bled into the days after, and she swore it had been rubbing off on her master as well, though he'd never admit to it. She still didn't really know anything about him, but she liked to think she understood him better than anyone else that came into the shop, and the thought pleased her greatly.

Her parents had remained safe, and though the anxiety of knowing that they were being watched remained in the pit of her stomach, she tried to remain optimistic. Her missions for the Order had been proceeding well, despite the increase of Death Eater activity. She and Remus had even had a couple together, much to his relief, and her dueling rhythm with Arthur had improved as well.

It hadn't been all smooth though - at the end of August, they lost Fritz Longbottom to a Death Eater ambush, and his murder had hit them all hard, particularly Frank, Fritz's younger brother who had been a year ahead of her and Remus at Hogwarts. As she pulled out her black robes for another funeral, she prayed silently to herself that there wouldn't be another for a while. She thought of her parents and her friends and imagined that if she kept their faces engrained in her mind, they would remain safe.

* * *

><p>Not all days were dark, however. One Saturday afternoon, Rowan sat next to Leanna, reading her the Muggle newspaper. The sun was bright and yellow and spilled into the room warmly, and she imagined whimsically that the golden leaves that floated in were sheets of sunlight. She had to stop reading several times to ask the older woman what various words were, such as "telephone" and "electrical circuit," and they both laughed brightly at her comical ignorance of common Muggle concepts. Rowan felt such a strong affection for her boyfriend's mother and desperately pushed away the thought that was creeping into her mind – would she ever be able to call her <em>Mother <em>as well?

As if reading her thoughts, Leanna asked, "How are you and Remus, dear?"

Rowan looked up with furrowed brows. Was it simply a mother's intuition to know when her child and his friends were troubled? Leanna was smiling patiently at her, and Rowan noted how similar the tired lines beneath her eyes were to Remus'.

"Hasn't Remus told you?" she asked, trying to sound light.

Leanna snorted slightly. "You and I both know he doesn't tell me anything about your relationship. Have you forgotten our brief correspondence a few summers ago?"

Rowan grimaced slightly at the memory – Leanna had owled her during the summer between their Sixth and Seventh Year asking what had happened between her and Remus as he'd withdrawn into himself completely. He still didn't know about their exchange. Her fists balled up tightly.

"I-" she started. "I don't know, honestly," she said. She didn't understand how she could open up to this woman so easily when she couldn't admit her reservations about her relationship to even Remus or her own mother. It irked her.

Leanna smiled sadly. "I thought so. What has he done now?"

Rowan frowned and looked down at her hands, forcing them open, though they still looked tense. "He hasn't done anything," she said honestly. "It's just that…" she trailed off. How was she supposed to explain this? "James and Lily got married," she said dumbly.

Leanna nodded knowingly. "And you don't think Remus wants to marry you," she completed.

Rowan felt her shoulders slump and her heart sink into her stomach. She hadn't been able to voice her fears out loud since her father had told her his concerns, and physically hearing the words put into the atmosphere made them feel inevitable now. Her lip quivered sadly.

A hand covered her own and she looked up to see Leanna gazing softly at her. "I can't tell you that Remus will ever come around," she said sadly, "But he loves you more than anything. You must know that, right?"

Rowan looked down again and nodded, though she couldn't quite make herself fully believe it. Their relationship had improved slightly when she'd returned back to work, but after Leanna had fallen ill, he had withdrawn back into himself. Rowan knew he was obsessing over his mother's stroke, thinking that the stress of his involvement in the war had driven her to it, and Rowan didn't know how to console him.

The growing rift between them continued to expand, and he seemed to be engulfed in a far off darkness that she couldn't reach. The fear whispered from the back of her mind. It had engraved itself into her heart, dug into her bones. She sometimes woke in the middle of the night to see him asleep next to her, and she would pull away from his embrace. She was afraid that if she touched him, the illusion of their relationship would shatter, and though she knew it was just a matter of time, she wanted to cling to him just a little longer.

But he had also begun to push _her_ away. Before he simply seemed to accept the distance she'd set between them but always stayed nearby. Now, he had started increasing that distance. She thought she'd be ready for it, but to see him slowly moving away from her was more painful than she'd imagined. She felt like she was sixteen again, sitting alone on the Hogwarts grounds in the hot sun.

Just as Leanna was about to say something else, the door opened, and Rowan's head jerked up to see Remus standing in the doorway. His face fell slightly as he saw the serious looks on Rowan and his mother. Her stomach lurched slightly at the sight of him.

"What's going on?" he asked concernedly, moving toward the bed.

Rowan shook her head and forced a smile. "Nothing, just talking about a sad story in the Muggle paper," she lied.

Remus shot her a mild look that said that he knew she wasn't telling the truth, but he didn't push it. He turned to Leanna and asked softly, "How are you feeling today?"

Leanna smiled and responded, "Just fine, dear. How's your day been?"

The three got to talking casually, and by the time Lyall arrived, Rowan was glad to see that Remus had forgotten all about the serious conversation he'd walked in on. When the pair left his parents to return to his apartment, it was quite late, and the two made their way for the exit. The small distance between them felt profound, and as they Disapparated, he didn't reach out to hold her hand.


	11. Of Green Flames & Sacrifice

**A/N**: This is an intense chapter, but I really enjoyed writing it. Shit gets dark though.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Of Green Flames and Sacrifice<strong>

It was surprisingly chilly for an early October night. Rowan shivered a little in the dark.

She had been assigned again to a protection mission. Lily, Remus, Peter, and Mina had been put on the lookout team that night at the safehouse the Order had arranged for the Bones family, and James had been overcome with enthusiasm about getting to be on the more "exciting" team, much to Lily's exasperation. Remus had been furious at his placement on the lookout team and wanted to trade roles with Rowan, but Dumbledore had been resolute. It had taken long hours of Rowan's assurances that she'd be fine to make Remus relent.

Dorcas Meadowes, an older jovial woman with a round rosy face, and Rowan were standing guard by the doorway of the Bones residence, both with wands drawn at the ready. Wizengamot member Edgar Bones and his family had been threatened by the Death Eaters after he'd sentenced a group of them to a lifetime in Azkaban. It had been a bold move – many of the men he'd sentenced were influential figures, and there would no doubt be serious grudges held against him for it.

The Bones family was illustrious and renowned for their keen sense of justice, and Rowan was proud to say that she was a comrade of both Edgar and his sister Susan. When Moody had reported that they were under heavy watch by the Dark Lord's followers, the Order had moved immediately to get them into hiding, and she was determined to get them there safely.

The Boneses had two small children, which made the transportation mission more difficult since Polyjuice Potion couldn't be safely taken by individuals so young without risking some dangerous effects. They had determined that the best choice was to wrap the young ones in James' Invisibility Cloak and then Sirius would transport them separately in the sidecar of his flying motorcycle. It was disturbingly loud, but it was the only way they could move them without certainly being caught, and if they were attacked, he'd be able to get away the easiest. The plan was for him to set out first and stop at various safehouses along the way. Rowan hoped the children wouldn't get scared and cry, giving away their position. He left with the children before the sun had set, and as they watched him drive off alone, Edgar and his wife Wisteria held each other tightly.

The remaining couple was given Polyjuice Potion, transforming them into Emmeline Vance and Mundungus Fletcher, who were both stationed at their final destination. Everyone wore black robes to help disguise themselves in the night, and Rowan thought darkly that they resembled Death Eaters.

Rowan had a terrible feeling about the mission and kept finding various holes in it. Though spies watching the Apparition, Floo, and Portkey networks would be looking for the Boneses and not Emmeline or Mundungus, she still felt a sickening dread spread through her stomach. Surely, the Death Eaters weren't so shortsighted to let a group of suspected Order members pass through a Portkey without attacking.

James, the Prewett brothers, Frank Longbottom, and Wisteria Bones head out for the first Portkey as the sun began to set. Rowan watched the older woman grip her husband's hand tightly before leaving nervously with the group. Perhaps it was because they looked like Emmeline and Mundungus, but for some reason, none of it seemed right. The anxiety spread through her limbs.

Rowan, Dorcas Meadowes, Arthur Weasley, Alastor Moody, and Edgar head out just after the sky had turned dark for the second Portkey. They moved swiftly and silently through the streets of London until they reached a dark dock. Ducking below a small bridge, they moved into a dark corner to find an old leather boot. Rowan was barely breathing. As they gathered around it, Moody pulled out his pocket watch. He held a gnarled hand up and gestured, counting down.

5-4-3-2-and

The group grabbed onto the boot together as the minute hand hit 8 p.m., and they were sucked into the void.

Her vision twisted sickeningly, and it was if the volume of the world went mute. But as her hearing came rushing back like an opened vacuum, she realized that something was terribly wrong.

Just as Rowan regained her feet, she heard screaming and blinding flashes of light all around her. She instinctively grabbed Edgar and pulled him downward just in time as a green beam of light shot over their heads.

"Someone betrayed us!" she heard an angry shout. Moody was shooting hexes around him wildly though accurately, hitting a few Death Eaters with red beams. He pointed his wand into the air and shot a blast of yellow sparks up into the sky, which exploded loudly and brightly. It illuminated the field, and Rowan counted nearly fifteen glimmering masks around them. Terror seized her body, and she felt as if her spine had frozen rigid.

"We have to move!" Arthur screamed over the mayhem, and he grabbed Edgar, pulling him towards the woods in the distance. Rowan followed but kept her back to the retreating group so that she could defend them from the still attacking Death Eaters. As they moved though, she realized that Dorcas had remained behind.

"Dorcas!" she shouted at the older woman. She was fighting viciously with a trio of Death Eaters and flailed an arm at her to keep going, but the thought of leaving her behind constricted her throat. Dorcas was fighting valiantly and had taken down two Death Eaters with a blast of fire from her wand. Just as Rowan was about to throw a hex at one of her comrade's attackers though, a green light hit the woman from behind.

"NO!" Rowan screamed. Dorcas' eyes were wide and blank as she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Rowan instinctively made a move to run to her body, but she realized that the other Death Eaters were closing in on them and held herself back, half-blinded by the hot tears that had risen to her eyes.

"Rowan, leave her!" she heard someone shout behind her, and she reluctantly continued on.

They miraculously made it into the forest, which offered them some cover but also hindered them as they had to watch their step as they moved through the dense trees and darkness. Rowan panted with exertion as they sprinted through the dark woods, the sound of cackling Death Eaters from behind them urging her onward. Their terrible voices echoed in her ears.

Finally, Rowan saw a glimmer of light and knew that it was a sign that the safehouse was close. They had to hold the Death Eaters off long enough to get Edgar and Wisteria into the safehouse and set up the protective enchantments before it was too late. She saw Arthur turn around and face off against the Death Eaters. Moody did the same.

"Rowan, you have to get Edgar to the safehouse now! We'll do our best to hold them off!" Arthur shouted, throwing hexes into the woods. A distant grunt told them that he'd hit one.

Rowan felt the terror in her blood again but ran forward and grabbed Edgar by the wrist, sprinting further into the woods and looking for the next sign for the safehouse. Just as they approached the last dash, she saw Frank Longbottom running with Wisteria toward them. Wisteria was struggling to keep up.

"Rowan!" he called. "There are about three on our tail! I'll hold them off, but you have to take them and go!" He pushed the older woman into Rowan's arms and then ran back to continue fighting.

The reunited couple embraced tightly, and Rowan could see that Wisteria was about to break down.

"Come on, we have to move!" she bit out impatiently and grabbed the woman's hand to keep running. Edgar followed close behind, throwing a few hexes behind him at the approaching Death Eaters.

Her face and lungs were searing, burning with heat, but she had to keep going. They were so close, and Rowan could see a light in the distance meaning that the house was close. They ran and ran, breathing ragged. Her legs ached, but she kept pushing. Just as they reached the clearing she shoved the Boneses forward.

"_Go! You have to get inside the house!"_ she screamed before turning to face the approaching footsteps. She could hear Remus' voice calling to them and saw Mina from the corner of her eye running towards the couple just before she turned. But just as she had raised her wand to fight the last of their pursuers, there was an explosion of blinding green light from behind her, and she felt herself soaring through the air.

The world twisted around her, and she vaguely heard Remus shouting her name. It all sounded so far away. She wasn't sure what was up or down.

She hit the ground on her left side with a sickening crunch and felt her head bounce against the dirt painfully. She was skidding. There was dirt caked onto her, in her skin. She felt a burning sensation on her right shoulder, but she couldn't find her voice. It burned, but not like the cold fire from the year before. It was hot and searing and green. She wanted to scream, but all she could hear was the pounding of feet running towards her. It sounded so dull. The world turned and flipped around her. Her lungs were in her throat, and she couldn't find control of her eyes, which were rolling wildly.

All she could see was green.


	12. Of a Coward's Despair

**A/N**: Blahhhh why is Peter so difficult to write about? I hope this gives a little insight into where I'm going with him.

**missalex3030:** Thank you so much for reviewing! And not at all! I love the longer reviews. It really touches me when people take the time to comment on the specific things they enjoy or don't find convincing, as it helps me understand what I'm doing well and can improve on. I really appreciate how thoughtful your messages are. Thank you so much again!

**dearmaggie:** Thank you SO MUCH for the constructive criticism. You really hit a lot of points I'd been concerned about, and it's helped me reconsider some things. I was also worried about the heaviness of the story so I took your advice and quickly penned out a lighter chapter to see how it felt, and it really elevated it all, despite my initial worries about it coming across as filler. Also, Peter is a character that I find really difficult to approach but is totally necessary - you're definitely right. This chapter is coincidentally the start of my touching upon his story, but I really have a hard time fleshing him out. Why is he so difficult to write about? Ugh, anyway, let me know how you receive my interpretation of him b/c I am SCURRED.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Of a Coward's Despair<strong>

Peter Pettigrew was not a brave man, and he was painfully aware of it. For years, he had despaired over his placement in Gryffindor when all of his mates and peers seemed to belong there. His parents had both been in Hufflepuff and he'd accepted that he would also be placed there, but as he stood in the Great Hall on that first day at Hogwarts, he was struck by the enormity of the castle and the magnetic whispers coming from a trio of his dark-haired peers. When he saw the handsome Sirius Black and pretty Rowan Delacroix placed into Gryffindor, he found himself dazedly wishing to also join that table of cheering students. They were so much livelier, so much more glamorous than the house next to them, and before he knew it, the Sorting Hat had announced to the Great Hall that he would be joining them.

He had been horrified to say the least that the hat had read his most inner desires, but as he took a seat next to Sirius Black and saw the bright smile of the dark-haired girl across from him, he knew he'd never been happier.

But as they'd grown, his three mates seemed to surpass him at every feat. They were all handsome, tall and popular, and he felt increasingly shabby next to them, round and plain. He was certainly no scholar nor an athlete, and though he did well in school, he knew it was due greatly to Remus Lupin's tutoring and assistance. Even his Animagus form was unimpressive.

He wasn't a bitter man, however. He knew his place would always be to support his more impressive friends, and as he watched them each move on to pursue great careers and relationships with the most beautiful girls in their year, he felt no spite or anger, just longing.

Peter didn't join the Order of the Phoenix because he was filled with any righteous indignation or belief in a cause. He joined for the same reasons he joined anything - his mates did. But for the year and a half that he'd been with the Order, he berated himself for being too afraid to just walk away, to know his own limitations. His friends wouldn't think any less of him, and it would give his poor mother one less thing to worry about, but for some reason, every time he opened his mouth at an Order meeting to announce his decision to quit, his throat ran dry.

But as he sat by the hospital bedside of Rowan Delacroix, the terror that had floated in the back of his mind for so long suddenly became very real.

It had been two days since their terrible mission with the Bones family, and he had woken each night since with cold sweats and terror in his bones at the memories of the green flames. He still saw Rowan thrashing on the ground, and the smell of charred skin met his nose. Her screams had knocked the breath out of his lungs. They were disembodied, otherworldly, and as he saw Remus run forward, his voice shouting out every protective spell he could think of, the world around him seemed to suck into a void. He barely remembered anything else after that.

He gazed at the young woman in front of him and was sickened again at how disgusted and afraid he was. He had seen her arm and shoulder when they finally put the flames out. Her skin had been raw and red, and he saw where her robes had been cooked into her very flesh. He had vomited into the grass at the smell and sight of the burning skin with great shame and felt extremely helpless as he watched Remus and Lily Disapparate for St. Mungo's with her limp body. After they had gone, he pathetically watched the other members of the protection teams emerge from the woods and couldn't find his voice. Mina had been the one to tell them what had happened - he had been too afraid to speak.

Rowan's arm was now bandaged in clean white gauze, and he felt grateful that he could no longer see the screaming red burns. The room was painfully white, and he felt dirty sitting in it. It had taken all of his courage to even come to see her, and he was thankful that she was asleep - he wasn't sure how he'd be able to face her after all that had happened if she'd been awake.

Even injured though, she was very beautiful, he noted. He had caught himself several times looking at his mates' girlfriends over the years with awe and often wondered what it would be like to make love to such a beautiful woman. Lily was almost ethereal with her thick red hair and pale skin, but Mina, in particular, was extremely attractive to him, with her graceful gestures and sultry voice. She was quietly powerful, and he marveled at the impressive spectacle that she was, standing next to the darkly handsome Sirius. She sometimes frightened him with the intensity of her gaze and quiet conviction.

But Rowan held a different place in his heart. She had always been the most aware of him, whereas the other two women had often just included him because of his association with the other three Marauders, though he didn't take it personally. Rowan was like a bouncing spark in the darkness of battle and getting to know her was almost like getting to know James, just through her mannerisms and stories. He was surprisingly comforted by her silly anecdotes and easy countenance with great pleasure and was always filled with warmth under her kind gaze. He thought that it made perfect sense for someone like her to be with someone like Remus, who was gentle and kind and intelligent. When he saw them together, he was filled with a vague envy that he might never find that kind of love.

Peter sat quietly in the white room with her and gazed at her face with guilt. She was so still. It was frightening. She should be moving, turning about the room with her usual whimsy. He always associated her with cheeky laughter, and the pained expression on her face - even asleep - was deeply unsettling.

His chest constricted painfully. He had barely been a participant in the war, taking on the less dangerous roles and allowing his friends to fight the big battles for him. Rowan had always charged into battle without hesitation, and now her arm would never be the same. Would she keep fighting after this? Could _he_ keep fighting after this? He felt the nausea hit him again.

He wanted more than anything to run and hide. His throat clenched painfully and he bowed his head with shame. How could he even _think_ of running? He knew somehow that Rowan wouldn't quit, even after this, and he was sickened by his own cowardice. His hands trembled as the green fire and Rowan's screaming flashed through his mind's eye again. He had to choke back the sob that threatened to burst through - he wanted to run!

Suddenly, he heard movement and jerked up, straightening his face in time to see Remus enter the room. Remus' face contorted angrily at the sight of him for a moment before awkwardly straightening back out. Peter trembled - could Remus hear all of the shameful thoughts in his head? He felt his stomach lurch at the idea. Would he look down on him if he knew how much of a coward he was?

"Wormy," he said curtly, "What're you doing here?"

Peter flinched at the cold tone of his voice. _Wormy - _he'd never considered how appropriate his nickname was. He truly was a worm, spineless, useless. It suddenly seemed very fitting.

"I wanted to see Rowan," he said weakly. "She's... I was worried."

Remus nodded and turned to look at the girl in the bed next to him. Peter saw his face wash over with grief and felt even more ashamed. How terrible could he possibly be feeling right now? And Peter had been just thinking of quitting! What kind of awful friend was he? He suddenly felt very aware of the fact that he didn't belong there, that he tainted the room with his presence. He needed to leave.

Peter leapt to his feet, grabbing his jacket from the chair and looked at Remus, who was gazing at him warily, as if measuring his worth. Peter felt very small.

"Well, I suppose I should get going then. She's safe with you, right?" he said, smiling weakly.

Remus glowered, but Peter couldn't tell if it was directed at him or not. It still made him tremble.

"I'll see you later then!" he squeaked before running out the door.

As he moved down the hallway quickly and out into the crisp October air, a wave of relief washed over him, and he suddenly wanted to vomit again. Even being in a hospital room was enough to send him into an episode of cowardice, he thought bitterly to himself. He was no Gryffindor, no brave man, and as he Disapparated for his mother's house, he felt even more ashamed.


	13. Of Lost Flesh & Bones

**A/N**: This is a really important chapter and marks a shift in the story. Also, it's pretty long.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Of Lost Flesh and Bones<strong>

There was so much green fire. Rowan peered around and knew she was burning. She was lying on her back in the fire but could still somehow see the field of flames around her. There was no smoke, but she couldn't breathe. Her lungs seared with pain. Why couldn't she breathe?

She lifted her hands to her face and saw that they were red – was it her blood? She felt her chest. It was wet and open. Her lungs were gone.

A part of Rowan knew she should panic, but she wasn't concerned about the blood or the flames, just that she couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

* * *

><p>Gasping painfully, Rowan jolted awake but immediately found that she couldn't move.<p>

Panic struck her and raced through her blood hotly. The room was so white. Where was all the green? She tried to throw her arms up to shield her eyes from the blinding white light, but an excruciating searing burning shot up her upper arm and down her back. She screamed out in pain.

"Rowan!" a voice called out, and she felt her arms being held down at her sides. She thrashed and screamed again. She was gasping for breath. It was too bright, too bright! She couldn't breathe. Her head and arm were searing. She couldn't breathe!

"Rowan! _Rowan!_" the voice called again. "Rowan, it's me! It's Lily! You're safe! Just calm down!"

Rowan kept thrashing but couldn't maintain her strength. Why was she so weak? Her lungs were burning, and her eyes were being blinded by the whiteness of the room. Why was she there?

Lily?

The face in front of her came into focus, and she slowly recognized the bright red waves in front of her as belonging to her old friend. Her breath still came in shaky gasps, but the terror that had seized her began to fizzle away, and she took the time to assess the room around her.

She was lying in a hospital bed in a stark white room. There were bandages running up her right arm, starting just below her elbow and continuing up into her hospital gown. By the stiffness in her back, she guessed that her entire upper body was covered in bandages as well. How had she gotten there? Where were all of the green flames?

"Where am I?" she croaked. Her throat burned as the sound left her mouth, and Lily moved to get her a glass of water. She held the glass to her mouth gingerly, and Rowan drank gratefully but was filled with anger at the fact that she could barely move her arms to hold the glass herself.

"You're at St. Mungo's," Lily responded quietly as she pulled the now empty glass from Rowan's lips and set it down. "You were badly injured. Do you not remember?" she whispered.

Rowan concentrated hard, but everything was a blur. She could remember green flames and a burning pain. The bandages suddenly made more sense. But why had she gotten hurt?

"Where are Edgar and Wisteria?" she whispered, looking at Lily searchingly. The panic overtook her again.

Lily's lip quivered, and Rowan felt her stomach lurch violently. "The explosion that hit you – it was aimed at the Boneses… They died instantly," she whispered sadly.

Rowan felt a white hot rage shoot through her chest and into her throat.

"How?" she breathed. "_How?"_ her voice was rising with her anger, and Lily looked startled at the sudden volume. "Who could have betrayed us? They were supposed to be safe!" she cried. Hot tears had begun to fall from her eyes. They trailed down her face and to her neck, and she wanted to scream in frustration at the fact that she couldn't even reach up to wipe them away.

"_Why did this happen?"_ she cried. Her throat was burning painfully, but she relished it. She was inconsolable. The grief hit her hard, and she choked on it, gasping again for air.

A group of women in white robes appeared in the doorway and rushed in.

"Miss, you must calm down! You'll reopen your wounds again if you don't stop moving!" they said to her panicking.

Their words only fueled her anger though, and Rowan screamed in frustration. Why couldn't she move? Why had any of this happened? Why did it have to happen to Edgar?

Where was Remus?

She felt a cold pinch in her arm and realized they'd injected her with a Sleeping Draught. Her eyelids immediately began to droop, and though she fought angrily, she felt herself being forced into sleep.

"I'm so sorry, Rowan," Lily whispered.

* * *

><p>When Rowan woke again, her mind was a gray cloud. She blinked blearily around her and was greeted by a calm blue. Hadn't the room been white before?<p>

"Rowan!" someone called out to her.

Her eyes shut again heavily, and she fought to open them. She couldn't remember where she was. Her right arm felt so stiff, and her mouth was painfully dry. She needed water.

As if answering her thoughts, she felt a cool glass being held to her lips, and she drank gratefully and quickly. The water ran down her throat, soothing the soreness there, and its chill seemed to oil the creakiness of her eyelids.

She opened them and saw bright hazel eyes staring down at her. There was a scar above the right eyebrow. She knew that face.

"Remus," she whispered.

The relief on his face was tangible. He exhaled shakily and lifted a hand to her face gently.

"Thank god," he whispered. "Oh, thank god." Why did he look so distraught? She wanted to touch him, but her arms were so sore.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're still at St. Mungo's, but they've moved you to a stable care unit. You've been here for about a day now," he whispered.

His words sunk in slowly. "How long have I been in the hospital?" she asked.

He grimaced. "About a week," he said quietly. "You woke up a few days ago when Lily was here, but they said you weren't supposed to come to for another few days. They were amazed that you'd woken up so early."

She looked up at the ceiling and the memories of the pain came rushing back. The searing and burning was no longer there, but there was still a dull ache in her left side and a distinct stinging to her right.

"You have some severe burns on your right shoulder and your left side got pretty banged up from landing after you were thrown by the explosion. You're lucky the Killing Curse fire only got your shoulder," he said gravely.

Killing Curse fire – that explained the green flames. Her stomach lurched. How was she even still alive?

"Is everyone else okay? Are you okay?" she breathed, searching his face for any signs of injury.

He nodded but frowned deeply. "Dorcas… She was hit by a Killing Curse, but Arthur said you saw that happen," he responded quietly. Rowan's stomach lurched painfully at the memory of the collapsing woman in a flash of green light. "Everyone else… We're all okay. There were a few broken bones, but nothing more than that. You definitely got the worst of it," he ended bitterly.

She released the breath she'd been holding and relief washed over her like a warm light. "Thank god," she breathed. She closed her eyes as few tears fell. "Thank god." She choked back a sob.

"No," Remus said. She opened her eyes again to look at him. She was startled to see anger boiling in his features.

"No, this wasn't supposed to happen," he bit out. His fists were balled tightly in her bed sheets. "This wasn't supposed to happen! You… You almost died!" She heard the tremble in his voice and wanted desperately to touch him. She struggled to lift her left hand and covered his with it. He grasped it tightly with both of his and doubled over, as if in pain.

"You were screaming. You were covered in the fire, and I couldn't get it out," he sobbed. "I almost lost you!"

She squeezed his hand again. "But you didn't," she said softly. "I'm still here."

Another sob racked through Remus' body and she felt his hot tears on her hand, running between her fingers to her palm. She was so angry that she couldn't move, couldn't hold him. She felt so useless. The tears began to fall from her eyes as well. She felt them run cold down her neck.

Rowan stared up at the ceiling again and listened to the sound of crying that came from both her and Remus. She thought of Edgar Bones' ferocity, and Wisteria's gasping breaths as they ran through the dark woods. Were they together again? The green fire filled her mind, and she had to blink the image away before it consumed her once more. Her arm burned.

* * *

><p>A few days after she woke to see Remus, Rowan had regained the strength to sit up and move her arms, though they remained stiff. The frustration and embarrassment she felt at not being able to even do the most basic of things was overwhelming, and she often found herself on the verge of tears with anger at her own weakness.<p>

She discovered that her left side was black and purple, though the bruises faded more and more everyday. Her right arm, however, healed very slowly. From the elbow up to the inside of her shoulder blade, she had screaming red burns that stung when she moved her right arm at all. The Healers said the extensive scar tissue would remain due to the magical properties of the fire she'd been hit with, and as she looked at the horrifying markings along her arm, she realized darkly that she'd belatedly received the indications of her injuries from the year before tenfold.

All of the Order members came to visit her in the evening, though usually in quiet pairs to not disturb her, and Lily stopped in for at least a few minutes everyday since she worked in the hospital. They brought her updates from Order meetings and books to keep her busy while she was there, as she'd been very bored lying in bed all day. Though loud voices still overwhelmed her, she looked forward to the visits from her friends, as they broke the silence of her dark memories of their failed mission.

Though they'd lost Edgar, Wisteria, and Dorcas in the battle, the Bones children were safe, and they'd been able to put about eight Death Eaters behind bars with another three dead from the fighting. Though she knew objectively they had won a serious battle, it seemed like a very large price to pay. She thought of noble Edgar and how much worse off the Wizarding World was without him in it, and she mourned for his children who would never really get to know the great man their father was.

What surprised her most was Belby's visit. When he saw the burns along her arm, his face went pale, and his eyes widened with horror. He didn't say much, but what he did talk about was awkward and only related to work. She felt strangely warm towards the rough man and even dared to touch his hand reassuringly. He snatched his hand away but didn't say anything to reproach her. As he left, he told her stiffly to take the time she needed to heal and that he'd be waiting for her to return. She couldn't find the words to thank him enough.

Leanna had been released from the hospital right before Rowan had entered it, and they joked that they were playing hospital tag. She and her mother came nearly as frequently as Remus, though earlier in the day to keep her company while Remus was at work. The three would chat quietly about the _Daily Prophet_, and Rowan enjoyed watching the two older women gossip. Sometimes Lyall and her father would even join them, and the joy she felt at seeing them together was dampened by her still dark feelings towards Remus. It was as though fate was dangling an impossible but beautiful future before her eyes, only to snatch it away.

Remus came everyday as she'd expected, and Fabian had even allowed him a few afternoons off to spend with her. He insisted on doing even the most trivial of things for her, and although she appreciated it, her uselessness was increasingly frustrating.

The circles beneath his eyes had darkened considerably, and she knew with guilt that he hadn't been sleeping. He spent a few nights after she'd woken up in the chair next to her, despite her insistence that he go home, and there was a mania in his doting that nearly frightened her.

Even though he'd been obsessed over her care, the rift between them remained. If anything, it had only grown. He could barely make eye contact with her at times, and when he did look at her, it was with a frigid look of barely contained rage. When she asked about the Order, his face would contort with a frightening anger, and it terrified her. It was as if there was another man walking in his skin. She knew objectively that he was probably still traumatized from seeing her so badly injured, but she began dreading her time alone with him. There was no tenderness in his actions, and his movement was stiff, sometimes menacing. She saw no love in his eyes and wondered mourningly if he considered her a burden.

His strange behavior wasn't exclusive to her. In the few occasions that other Order members came in while he was there, she noticed a distinct coolness in his behavior towards them, sometimes even aggression, which startled her. Remus was a reserved man, and he was nothing if not warm and polite, even to those he didn't like. Even their closest friends seemed nervous to be around him. The fear settled deep into her muscles and lungs.

When she asked James and Lily about it, they shifted uneasily and gave her vague answers. She realized with great frustration that the only way she'd be able to get any answers would be to confront him about it, but the thought of asking him such difficult questions when she was already so frightened of him made her tremble with dread.

After about two and a half weeks of being in the hospital, James, Mina, and Sirius had come in to see her right after getting out of work, and she had been thrilled. The four were chatting animatedly, laughing at a story Sirius was telling about a prank he'd pulled on Moody earlier in the day, when Remus came in.

The room hushed as he entered, and Rowan forced a smile to her face, trying to engage all of them as best as she could. She never thought she could feel so uncomfortable in a room with her best friends, but there was an iciness radiating off of Remus that could be felt by all of them.

Sirius coughed and stood, quickly followed by the other two. "Well, we should get going – don't want to intrude on your private time with Moony," he said, grinning awkwardly. He glanced over at his friend, who was avoiding eye contact with him. Rowan felt a surge of anger in her chest at his obvious rudeness but turned back to her friends and smiled genuinely.

"Thank you so much for coming again, you guys. I really appreciate everything," she said warmly.

They brushed off her words of thanks good-naturedly and each hugged her before moving from the room, all of them obviously trying to not look too rushed. As the door shut, Rowan turned angrily towards Remus, who had sat down next to her and was pulling off his jacket jerkily, still bristling noticeably.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked. She kicked herself inwardly for attacking him right at the start, but she couldn't think of a single reason for him to be so terribly rude towards his alleged best friends.

His eyes flashed for a moment, but he didn't say anything. After a pause, he answered stiffly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her anger flared again. "Seriously? You're going to lie to my face and tell me everything is all right when you just ignored our friends? You've been a total ass to every Order member that's come in here, and you expect me to not notice?" she ranted. He held his gaze away from her, and the anger grew. "I hurt my arm, not my brain! Do you think I'm stupid?" she accused.

Remus looked up at her finally but still didn't answer her. His face was full of barely contained rage, and she could see a muscle in his jaw twitch. She thought vaguely of how frightened she'd been the first time he'd looked at her in such a way and felt that same icy terror seize her. He didn't look like himself at all. His eyes scanned over her face frantically.

"There's a traitor in the Order, Winnie," he bit out venomously.

Rowan was taken aback. She had thought about it during her quiet moments alone, and Moody's angry shouts from that terrible night had echoed through her head over the past couple of weeks: _Someone betrayed us._

But she couldn't think of anyone who would betray them to Voldemort. Mundungus Fletcher was the only person whom she considered even slightly suspicious, but he was a thief, not a traitor. She knew that if it came down to it, he'd run, but he'd never sell them to the enemy. It was terrifying, and she tried to not think of it while she recovered, but obviously, it had been a serious concern for the Order outside of the hospital walls.

"What's that have to do with our friends? You couldn't possibly think..." she trailed off, realization hitting her. Her eyes widened with horror. "You think it's one of them!" She was mortified. How could he even _think_ something like that? His mates had loyally stayed by his side through all of the trials they'd faced since the moment they'd met! How could the thought have even occurred to him?

He shook his head but still seethed quietly. "I don't know who it is, but I don't want to take any chances. Whoever betrayed us nearly got you killed, and when I find out who it is, I…" he trailed off. His hands fisted tightly in her bed sheets.

He looked up at her, and she was frightened by the pure hatred there. His eyes were razor sharp and pierced through her painfully. She didn't even recognize him. "_I'm going to kill them,"_ he breathed.

A chill shot up her spine, seizing her lungs, and she suddenly didn't know who the man in front of her was. There was no hint of kindness or sorrow there – not even fear. She was scared, terrified of this man. She saw green.

"I'm going to make whomever did this to you pay," he continued. There was a dark depth to his voice she'd never heard before, and it sent an icy wind through her bones. "They're going to suffer for what they've done. I will kill every Death Eater, every traitor, who has ever laid his eyes on you."

The room was spinning, and she had to grasp the sheets to ground herself. Her throat had constricted in fear. She was terrified of him.

"No," she choked.

His eyebrows furrowed, but the overwhelming intensity of his gaze remained. His features remained dark, maniacal, and she inexplicably wanted to shake him violently. Where was Remus?

"No, not like this," she gasped. She fought back the heat that had rushed to her face. "I know there's a traitor in the Order, but it shouldn't happen like this!" The heat was overwhelming her. "It's not one of our friends – you _know_ it's not one of our friends! Why are you acting like this?" she cried.

"The war is changing you, Remus! You would _never_ have accused one of your best friends of betraying us before we joined the war," she said desperately. He was still looking at her with that frigid expression. He felt so far away from her. Why couldn't she reach him?

The tears began to fall. "We'll leave the Order! We don't need to keep fighting anymore. We can just leave, so _please!"_ she begged. She wasn't even sure what she was saying anymore. She grabbed his hands frantically, but they remained balled up and tight. He didn't budge. His face remained stony and hard, and she suddenly wanted to get away from him, to put as much distance between them as possible. She didn't know this man.

An overwhelming wave of grief hit her. She'd lost so much already to this damned war, and now she'd lost the one thing she'd always thought would remain constant. _Where was Remus?_ He was supposed to be kind. He was always kind! When had he changed? How could she have not noticed it? This wasn't the boy she fell in love with, the man she'd been building her future around. She didn't know this person. He terrified her, and she couldn't even stand looking at him.

"I don't know you anymore," she breathed. Her tears spilled hotly and freely. Remus' expression didn't change, and she felt defeated, exhausted. "I don't know who you are. I-" she gasped. She didn't know how to continue. His silence was maddening. She couldn't even remember Remus' voice. She needed to hear him respond desperately, but he just stared through her as if she wasn't even there.

She wanted him gone. She wanted Remus, but she didn't know where to find him. He wasn't there – he wasn't _anywhere_.

"You've left me," she cried. She covered her face, suddenly ashamed of letting this stranger see her tears. "You've left me behind!"

She wept and felt the sobs shake her body. Remus didn't move, didn't touch her, and she felt her grief even more desperately as she realized that he truly wasn't there. The man beside her was a stranger – she didn't know him. She cried until her voice went hoarse.

As her sobs calmed, her breathing still ragged, she heard him stand from his chair, but she didn't look up. She was terrified to look at him, to see someone else walking in Remus' skin, in his bones. He didn't say anything as he moved to the door, and when she finally removed her hands, it was if he'd never been there at all.


	14. Of Old Scars & New Wounds

**A/N**: Sad, sad, sad...

**missalex3030:** Ahhh so glad you like Peter's chapter. I'm pretty excited about developing his story, but he's so hard to write about. And you totally get where I'm going with Remus. Wheee, thank you!

**REVIEW MEEEEEE PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Of Old Scars and New Wounds<strong>

After their discussion about the Order's traitor, Remus didn't return to see her again, and she knew that the rift had finally snapped. Their friends increased their visits to help make up for the void that had been left, though they weren't able to tell her what he'd been up to since she'd last seen him. There was a stiffness to the way they spoke that made her uneasy, but she couldn't get them to tell her why. They tried to comfort her with reassurances that he loved her, but she wasn't sure if even they believed it.

There had been no love in his voice or movements for weeks, only blind anger and violence. She was beginning to think that she'd hallucinated the gentle man that she'd woken to. She wasn't sure where the man who had loved her was, but she wanted to believe that he was just lost in a storm of rage and fear. She missed him to the point of agony.

Rowan left the hospital by the last week of October, and though she wanted to be happy to finally be free of her imprisonment, she couldn't muster up even the effort to try. Her parents insisted on her staying with them for a couple of weeks while her arm continued to heal, and she didn't have the energy to fight them on it.

As she unwound the bandages from her arm and shoulder that first night in her old bedroom, she numbly noted the expanses of rusty scabs over her limbs and the small blotches of red that stained the inside of the gauzy bandages. She stood in front of her mirror naked and turned slowly to finally see the visual damage that had been left. Her hipbones and ribs protruded from her skin unnaturally from the weight that she'd lost, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. The bruising on her left side had faded to a sickening yellow, but the achiness was gone. She felt surprisingly empty at the sight of the red and brown burns that covered the back of her right arm, shoulder, and back. They trailed up to the base of her neck and down slightly past her shoulder blade. She knew they would never truly heal.

She told herself that one day she would look at her old scars with pride and know that she'd been a true soldier, but for now, they only left her feeling heavy with loneliness. She wondered if Remus ever looked at his own scars that way.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that her son had left Rowan, Leanna Lupin still insisted on spending time with the young woman. She had continued to visit her frequently at the hospital, and a few days after she'd been released, she invited her into their home for the first time to have tea.<p>

It pained Rowan more than she'd expected to see the older woman. Every time she looked at Remus' mother, she saw all of his gentle features and mannerisms, and she grieved for the man she'd lost. He had been pushed into obsession because of her injury, and now she couldn't bring him back. Did Leanna know?

As she stepped into the house from the crisp November afternoon, she scanned over the warm tones of the wooden floors and the general feeling of comfort the house gave. It was a much gentler place than her own home, she thought, and she could easily imagine how a young Remus would become so kind growing up in such a place. It felt very bittersweet.

Rowan and Leanna fell into easy conversation as they always did, and Rowan could almost forget the awkwardness of being in her former boyfriend's childhood home. Her eyes scanned the walls and saw pictures of him as a young boy, before his Hogwarts years. She'd forgotten how thin and tiny he'd been when they were younger – he had been smaller than her until their Fourth Year when he finally seemed to catch up with the rest of the boys. She smiled faintly – who knew he'd end up being the tallest out of all of them?

There were even a few photos with her and the Marauders in them from their Hogwarts years, and she felt a dull pain in her chest. Their lives had turned out so differently from the way they'd imagined while in school. She wished they'd been born in a different time.

Leanna's voice broke her from her sad thoughts. "Will you tell me what's happened to Remus?" she asked quietly.

Rowan looked at her and suddenly felt very ashamed. Wasn't all of this partially her fault? She knew she couldn't be blamed for getting hurt, but the reason he'd lost himself was because of her. If she'd just had the courage to break up with him after James and Lily's wedding, this might not have happened.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. She stared dazedly at the cup in her hands and felt the warm ceramic beneath her fingers. "I don't even know who he is anymore," she whispered ashamedly.

Leanna gazed at her with furrowed brows but said nothing, waiting for Rowan to continue.

"After I was attacked, it was like he was a different person," she said. "He was cold to our friends and even to me. He discovered that there's a traitor in the Order," she admitted quietly.

Leanna's eyes widened with fear, and Rowan grimaced but continued. "He's determined to find out who it is, but it's become an obsession. It's violent and dark and wrong. He's even suspecting our friends, and nothing I say can reach him," she despaired. Her hands clutched at the teacup tightly.

"I don't know what to do," she whimpered. "All I want is to be with him, but I can't find him anywhere!" She blinked rapidly as she felt the stinging emerge.

A hand gripped her forearm, and she looked up. Leanna was gazing at her with watery eyes, and Rowan felt the guilt rip through her again.

"You are such a good girl," she said softly. Rowan frowned deeply.

"I worry so much about him – every moment of the day," Leanna continued. "He's been avoiding us, and we were so scared that something had happened to him," she said tearfully. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

Rowan's frowned deepened. "But I haven't done anything," she protested. She was so confused – how could this woman be so calm?

But Leanna didn't answer and stood with her teacup, carefully balancing it with her good arm and walking towards the kitchen counter. Rowan continued to frown and stare into her cup. Her reflection in the tea was red. Was it just the distortion of the liquid, or were her cheeks more sunken than usual? She mused bitterly that she looked like Remus.

Suddenly there was a shattering of glass, and Rowan leapt to her feet and spun around. Leanna was doubled over and leaning against the counter unsteadily. The teacup had shattered over the floor in pieces. She was gripping her left arm tightly, and her eyelids were drooping unnaturally.

"Leanna!" she cried, running to the woman's side and grabbing her by the shoulders, ignoring the painful crunching of the glass cutting into her feet. Panic seized her lungs. She held the older woman firmly and looked around the kitchen wildly. What was she supposed to do?

It was too dangerous to put her down in the middle of the broken glass, and she couldn't reach her wand. She realized with horror that she was going to have to carry her to the door. Gripping her tightly, she lifted her with difficulty and cursed at her body for still being so weak. In a burst of adrenaline, she stumbled towards the door with the older woman in her arms. The sole of her left foot was bleeding from a piece of ceramic gouged into her heel. As soon as she hit the front porch, she Disapparated with Leanna in her arms. They collapsed in a heap in front of St. Mungo's to a flurry of surprised shouts.

"Somebody help me! I need a Healer now!" she shouted. Wizards and witches stared at her with bewilderment, and she felt a surge of anger. "NOW!" she screamed, and a couple of witches ran into the building, shouting for help.

Rowan looked down at the limp woman in her arms. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and Rowan felt the panic seize her again. She cradled her head gently and squeezed her hands, shaking them.

"Leanna! _Leanna!_ You have to stay with me! _Please!_" she begged hysterically. She could barely see beyond her tears.

A group of Healers suddenly appeared, levitating the woman out of Rowan's arms and onto a stretcher. She scrambled to her feet and ran after them into the building but was grabbed by another Healer.

"Miss, your foot is bleeding!" he rushed.

Rowan felt a surge of anger. "My friend is in there! I have to be with her!" she said, pushing the man off of her, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"You can't go in there though! No one's allowed in there except for patients and Healers! And you're bleeding all over the floor! We need to fix your foot before it gets infected!" he reasoned desperately.

She screamed in frustration and looked about her wildly. Leanna had disappeared behind a pair of private doors with the Healers, and she knew the pestering man was right. She felt the tears overcome her again and pounded her fist against the wall, crying in anger. She slid down it slowly in defeat as she felt the man stoop down to tend to her foot. The sharp pain of the glass being pulled from her heel compared nothing to the grief that seized her.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day swept by in a dark haze, and Rowan lost track of time. She waited numbly at St. Mungo's for Lyall and Remus after sending them Patronuses. They both arrived only minutes after.<p>

She felt empty and tired standing in the waiting room in front of them, barefoot with her left foot bandaged. She knew she should feel embarrassed by her appearance, but she couldn't seem to muster much emotion at all. She remembered vaguely that there would be blood and broken glass on their floor when they returned home.

Rowan couldn't raise her eyes to meet either of the men's faces and felt even more ashamed at her inability to even communicate with people she was supposedly close to. But she was terrified to see Remus – he'd already left her, and now his mother was hurt again. Would he blame her? Hadn't their conversation been what instigated Leanna's second stroke? Her stomach felt empty but heavy, and she wanted to be anywhere else.

Lyall had gripped her tightly in an embrace before she left and whispered words of gratitude to her, but she felt like they were all very misplaced. Remus made no move towards her or indication that he wanted to speak to her. She left feeling very empty. When she arrived home, her mother and Alfred were frantic at her appearance. She relayed what had happened to them numbly but couldn't remember a single word of it later or how they'd responded. She went up to bed after without dinner and fell into a deep dreamless asleep immediately.

* * *

><p>When she woke early the next day, Carole was seated at the kitchen table crying. Leanna Lupin had died in the middle of the night.<p>

A wave of despair crashed over Rowan. She heard it rushing through her ears and felt as if her body was being swept away. Before she knew it, she was on the front porch of the Lupins' house knocking on the door. She didn't know how or when she'd dressed herself, but she dumbly recognized that she was wearing shoes and even a coat. It was quite cold.

She was surprised to see Sirius answer the door. He smiled in relief at her and swooped her up into a fierce embrace, which she returned. She suddenly felt very warm and happier than she'd been in ages to see her friend. Her surroundings seemed to come into focus. Had she been sleepwalking?

The Lupins' living room was full of her friends. Mina, Lily, and Peter were writing out letters, and James was washing dishes in the kitchen. The broken teacup and blood were gone from the floor.

Lyall sat in a large leather chair looking dazed. His eyes were closed, but Rowan somehow knew he wasn't asleep. Her friends all looked up as she entered the room, and their faces all washed over with the same smiles of relief that Sirius had shown. Lyall opened his eyes at the sudden greetings and smiled thinly at Rowan. He tried to stand, but she rushed forward and made him sit back down. She knelt down beside him and grasped his hand tightly in both of hers.

"Lyall," she choked out. Why was it so hard for her to speak? "Lyall, I'm so sorry," she said. She wasn't sure why she was apologizing, but it felt like the appropriate thing to do. The guilt spread through her again.

He covered her hands with his own and smiled gently. "You silly girl," he breathed. His eyes crinkled fondly at her. "There's nothing to be sorry for," he said kindly.

She shook her head but said nothing. She felt the tears emerge again but blinked them away.

He smiled gently at her. "I should be thanking you," he said softly. "If you hadn't been there…" he trailed off. He breathed shakily and gripped her hands almost painfully. "I'm eternally grateful to you. You've been so good to our family, and you were a wonderful friend to Leanna."

She shook her head again. "No," she choked, "You've been too good to me, much better than I deserve. I should've been able to do more."

He continued to smile at her but said nothing. He leaned back again and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. She looked around the room at all of her friends, who had gone back to their tasks. Sirius had joined James in the kitchen, and she noted fondly how strange it was to see them in such a domestic setting – under any other circumstances, she would've laughed. Peter and the girls were silently writing very serious letters...

Grief hit her again – they were funeral service arrangements.

"Where is Remus?" she asked quietly, mostly to herself.

Lyall sighed but didn't look up. "He's upstairs. He hasn't come down since we came home last night," he said without opening his eyes.

Rowan's chest constricted, and she stood slowly, releasing Lyall's hands. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her calmly.

"He misses you," he said softly.

Rowan didn't respond but looked at the older man sadly. He smiled and then closed his eyes again.

Rowan turned and walked into the hallway towards the stairs. They were the same warm brown wood of the floors, and as she gazed up them, she imagined Remus' steady gait as they'd walked up the moving stairs at Hogwarts together when they were younger. She found her feet lifting one after the other, feeling the cool wood beneath her toes.

At the top of the stairs, she peered into the three open rooms, which were the toilet and two empty bedrooms. The large size of one told her that it was Lyall and Leanna's room. The bed was neatly done, and Rowan was reminded of Remus' clean habits.

The last door down the hall was closed, and she felt her throat constrict, realizing that it was Remus'. As she stood in front of it, she took in the basic details of the door and noted numbly that it was all quite normal. But he'd grown up here. How many of his fingerprints were imprinted into this doorknob? How many times had he slammed this door shut in anger as a child? She was struck by how much she didn't know about him and wanted desperately to see him.

As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she took a shaky breath and prayed that she would finally find Remus in this room. Perhaps he'd been waiting there all along.


	15. Of Closing Doors & Opening Paths

**A/N**: Sad, then happy, then what? It's all so volatile.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Of Closing Doors and Opening Paths<strong>

Rowan waited with bated breath for a moment after knocking on Remus' door. It was strangely silent – had he fallen asleep? She was debating whether to just enter or not when the door opened slowly.

He frowned in confusion at the sight of her, and she suddenly felt very self-conscious. His eyes were red and swollen, as she imagined hers were. She scanned his face quickly and felt relief wash over her – it was Remus, _really_ Remus.

She let out a shaky breath and smiled weakly at him that seemed insufficient. She wanted him to know how glad she was to see him, how grateful she was that he was there. His lip quivered. He didn't say anything but stepped aside silently to let her into his room. As he closed the door behind her, she looked around his pale blue room and at his belongings and tried to memorize each item, every detail.

There was a line of photos pasted on his wall above his desk, and she realized that there was one from each year at Hogwarts. The first two were of just him and the Marauders, all small and scrawny with large grins, waving maniacally at the camera and shoving each other playfully. After that, she was in each of them. After their Fourth Year, he seemed to grow taller than the rest increasingly. She also noted fondly that they seemed to move closer to each other each year until, eventually, they posed together in the Seventh Year photo, arms wrapped tightly around each other and giggling madly. The photo of them in the Common Room that she'd given him for Christmas their Sixth Year was framed and sat on his desk.

The nostalgia ached in her chest, and she looked back up to see Remus gazing at her longingly. She felt pink heat in her cheeks and was slightly embarrassed at the fact that she was embarrassed at all. It was as if looking at the photos of their past transplanted her back into her awkward schoolgirl days, and she had to avert her gaze.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked. His voice sounded hoarse, but she cherished the sound. It was so warm, so familiar, and she couldn't believe that she had nearly forgotten it in such a short time.

"Should I leave?" she asked, looking back up to him quickly. A small surge of embarrassment bubbled in her chest.

"No!" he blurted out. His face also reddened, and she was pleased that he also felt awkward. Was being in his childhood space making them both regress?

She looked down again uncomfortably and fidgeted with her hands. "Okay," she said stiffly. Why was this so difficult?

"I just," she started, not really knowing what to say, "I wanted to see you," she said lamely, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Oh," he said weakly, "Thank you."

They stood in silence for a moment, neither looking at each other. Rowan's heart was thudding painfully in her chest. She was scouring her mind for something to say, but she couldn't think of anything. She hazarded a glance towards him and saw that he was staring at the photos above his desk with a frustrated frown, teeth worrying his bottom lip. The expression was so endearing, so very like him that she was overcome with a strange relief – he had been there all along.

Before she could stop herself, she'd moved forward and thrown her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Her suddenness startled him and he jerked clumsily for a moment, staring down at her. He was so warm, so familiar. Where had he gone? She'd missed him so much, and as she felt him against her, she felt her tears surface again.

He placed his hands awkwardly on her shoulders. They trembled slightly as they slid slowly around her. Finally, he relaxed into her embrace and squeezed her back. He sighed shakily and held her tightly. She felt his chest begin to tremble and then his tears hit her neck. She wanted to be engulfed by him, to feel her bones meld into his so that she never lost him again. She wanted to know where he'd been, where he'd disappeared to, but it could wait. She dug her fingers into the back of his shirt and knew joyously that he'd finally come home.

* * *

><p>Leanna's funeral passed in a blur. Rowan felt ashamed that she couldn't remember a single word of Remus' eulogy, but as they sat together after in a daze, she guessed that probably even he didn't remember it either.<p>

She sat in the front with him during the service, and he gripped her hand tightly through it all. Neither of the Lupin men cried at the service or as they set Leanna into the ground, but Rowan knew that they'd already shed enough tears to mourn several lifetimes.

After they said their goodbyes to the bright woman, they gathered in the Lupin household quietly. Their friends sat together in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Remus still gripped Rowan's hand, and she leaned against him, letting the pressure of her body ground him.

As the sun began to set, people began to trickle out, and Rowan realized that she was one of the last. She shifted slowly, indicating to him that she was planning on leaving as well, but Remus' grip on her remained firm. She looked up at him questioningly and saw that he was leaning back with his eyes closed. He looked very much like his father. Still, his finger remained laced in hers tightly, and she realized that she wasn't going anywhere.

Once the last guests had left, Lyall said goodnight to them and went up to bed quietly. Rowan watched him sadly go up the stairs and mourned the fact that he was sleeping in that large bed alone.

She felt Remus shift and stand slowly from the couch, pulling her up gently with him. He looked at her cautiously.

"Will you stay?" he whispered, eyes searching hers.

She felt uncomfortable – he couldn't possibly want to be intimate at a time like this, could he? She hesitated but nodded slowly, and he smiled weakly at her before leading her up the stairs and into his room.

As he closed the door behind her, she felt her chest tighten with panic – she couldn't sleep with him. They weren't together anymore, and she couldn't even pretend to be in the mood for anything physical after the day that they'd had. Relief washed over her as Remus moved to his dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for her to wear. He handed them to her shyly, and she took them gratefully. She turned her back to him as she moved to undress, and he averted his gaze from her. She felt strangely saddened by it.

After she'd tugged on his baggy clothes, she crawled into bed with him. He hesitantly wrapped an arm around her middle, and she let him pull her against him gently. She wrapped her arms up his back and buried her face into his chest, inhaling him into her lungs. If she had anything left in her to give, she would have cried at the familiarity of it all. Would this be the last time he ever held her? Tomorrow, they'd probably go back to being friends – this was all special circumstance. She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. Once she felt the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest even out, she let herself fall asleep. She dreamt of blue walls and chiming bells dripping with red tea.

* * *

><p>After spending the night with Remus, they'd woken up blearily to the yellow morning sun. It reminded her of Leanna and their cheerful conversations over autumn wind. She'd expected to feel awkward, but they were surprisingly comfortable with each other, and as she redressed in her robes, she didn't feel the need to turn away from him, though he was polite and didn't stare.<p>

But even though there was a renewed comfort between them, he made no move to touch her beyond the warm embraces of reassurance they shared, and her gratitude was bittersweet. She mourned what they'd lost, and when she returned home, she cried quietly, for it felt as if the last chapter of their relationship had finally closed with Leanna's passing. Perhaps they were never meant to be together at all, and they'd both been forcing it out of a need for something genuine. Even so, she thought of the future she'd imagined for the past three years of her life with a deep sorrow. She mentally placed her memories of him in the box of his old letters and closed it, pushing it out of sight underneath her bed. But as she stored it away, she remembered all the moments before when she'd said that it was time to move on from him, and she thought sadly to herself that no matter how her life seemed to change, certain things always remained the same.

Rowan returned to work the next week, and she was grateful for the normality of it all. She could always rely on Belby to be a man of habit, even to the point of discomfort. After he inquired briefly about her injury and Leanna's passing, he made no mention of anything beyond work again, and Rowan fell into the regularity with relief.

She resumed her manic dedication to work, and even Belby had praised her gruffly for her progress. Despite the loss of her love and dear friend, she hadn't felt so accomplished in ages and was beginning to think that perhaps she could move on with her life. She couldn't foresee herself finding anyone else, at least not in the near future, but she finally understood – truly understood – that, unlike her mother, she couldn't waste her years away waiting for a man whose mind was somewhere else. Even if her career was dedicated to healing that man, it was a cure for her as well.

She'd begun keeping a bag of toiletries at the laboratory as her nights there became more frequent. Remus still insisted on escorting her home when she left in the middle of the night, which encouraged her to work into the morning in order to avoid burdening him, though she could tell that he worried incessantly still about her protection. She still saw him frequently on Order business and out with their friends, but she couldn't be around him too often without worrying that she'd grow complacent. He seemed to understand and kept his distance, but she couldn't help but suspect that he kept a closer eye on her than what was apparent.

In mid-December, Rowan and Belby were working late into the night again. They had been experimenting for months with the various forms of aconite, and Rowan had shrieked with joy when her lycanthropic mice had begun showing signs of less aggression under steady influence of wolfsbane. Belby had grumbled at her display, but the fiery excitement in his eyes was undeniable, and they dove into her lead with a manic ferocity.

She noted that aconite in the form of monkshood was useless, but the wolfsbane portion of the plant, when brewed with crushed smoked moonstone, offset the lycanthropic symptoms. The proportions of her potion still weren't right and she hadn't figured out the correct brewing period, but the thought that she was so close was enough to keep her and Belby going with an intense fire.

* * *

><p>It was the night of the full moon and a few days before Christmas. They knew they wouldn't have another chance like this for a month, and they'd been injecting the mice for an entire week with the potion. Belby had his pocket watch out and was counting down the seconds until the moon was at its peak. Rowan watched with bated breath as the mice contorted grotesquely, hair bristling and high voices shrieking. She cringed – no matter how many times she'd watched the process, she always thought of Remus. Her heart ached.<p>

But after the contorting stopped, instead of the usual violent thrashing and frightening noises, the mice remained still, sedated almost. One of the mice even moved to the edge of the cage and peered curiously up at them. After a few minutes, most of them simply fell asleep. The sight of their twisted forms in such a peaceful state was haunting, and though the two potioneers waited for any signs of intoxication or returned aggression, they remained sleeping.

She and Belby shared a silent moment, but she felt the same electricity between them as she had the first day they'd met and she'd convinced him that she was worth the risk of taking on as his apprentice. She looked at him with wide eyes. He was breathing hard, shakily. Her legs trembled, and she feared that they would collapse beneath her. But then for the first time in the year and a half that she'd been with him, he laughed.

It was loud and trumpeting and triumphant. It echoed through the lab raucously, and she suddenly felt her own laughter bursting from her lungs and bouncing off the walls with his. He grabbed her with rough hands and threw his arms around her neck, squeezing her with such force that it knocked the wind from her lungs, but she didn't care. She squeezed him back, and when she couldn't find the words to express her joy, she simply screamed with excitement. She had never felt such elation. It seemed cruel that her body couldn't lift itself into the air with her happiness.

The two leapt drunkenly around the lab, screeching with hysterical laughter until they collapsed breathlessly with tears in their eyes to the floor. They laid on the cold stone ground, each gasping for breath, faces sore from laughing but both still grinning maniacally. The coolness of the floor was soothing on her skin, which she realized was burning from the heat of her hysteria. She closed her eyes and listed all the ways she was grateful. Remus' face burned into her mind, and she suddenly wanted to cry.

"Delacroix," Belby murmured.

She opened her eyes and looked over at the Potions Master. He was still lying on his back with his arms and legs sprawled around him. His eyes were closed. There were silent tears running down his cheeks.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

Rowan thought her chest might burst, and she allowed the joyous tears to break through. She beamed at the older man, even though he couldn't see it.

"No, thank _you_, Master Belby," she replied.

* * *

><p>A pair of dark-robed figures stood outside of Damocles Belby's apothecary with wands held to their ears, a faint glow emitted from the tips. As they heard the laughter inside die down, they lowered their wands and shared a look before moving out of the shadows and into the street.<p>

The moon was bright and full, illuminating the white sheet of snow that had fallen on the streets of Diagon Alley. One of the men grinned. The Dark Lord would be pleased.


	16. Of the Imprint of Memories

**A/N**: A breath of fresh air to break through the darkness!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Of the Imprint of Memories<strong>

Rowan was struggling through the snow down the streets of Diagon Alley. The previous night had seen a snowfall of a good six inches, and she was marching through, trying her very best not to stumble. The winter sun was bright and reflected off the white snow blindingly, and the wind stung her cheeks till they were rosy. She thought that it was a wonderful day to be alive.

It was Christmas Eve, and the apothecary would be closed, but she knew that her master would be in the laboratory working anyway, so she'd come out to assist him for the day. Ever since their miraculous night of discoveries and laughter, there had been a lightness to the older man that she'd never imagined he could ever possess. She caught herself watching him at times while they worked, and even in the times of exhaustion, the secret smile on his face was enough to keep her enthusiastic.

If Belby was surprised to see her there, he made no mention of it, and they worked as if it were any other day. Though they had made a breakthrough, they still needed to test the dosages and try to improve the formula further. They also needed to start searching for human test subjects, which would be incredibly difficult. They received the lycanthropic mice from Ministry grants, but convincing werewolves to undergo testing was a risky task – not only would they be risking the subjects' health, but they would also be exposed to werewolves on the full moon. It would also probably require a great amount of funding. The entire ordeal would need serious preparation. Rowan made a mental note to speak to Fabian about requesting help with the protective spells.

At the end of the day, Rowan moved to her bag and pulled a small, neatly wrapped box from it. She turned and saw Belby hunched over his cauldron with his mouth twisted in concentration. She smiled fondly at the older man and cleared her throat.

He looked over at her with a frown and then noticed the gift in her hands. His frown deepened.

"What nonsense is that?" he growled.

She grinned. "Well, you already rudely turned down my invitation to dinner tonight, so I thought it would only be right if you accepted a Christmas present instead," she said brightly. "Don't worry, it's nothing _intimate_," she said cheekily.

He glowered at her but reached out a hand. She passed it to him and watched with great amusement as he unwrapped the red paper awkwardly. It seemed that he hadn't received a gift in a long time.

He pulled a small rectangular box from the wrapping paper and opened it carefully to reveal a new pair of glasses. He frowned at them then looked up at her questioningly.

"I noticed yours have a bit of a crack in them, and the frames are bent," she said casually. "Also, these are enchanted so they repel smoke and steam. You'll be able to see better while you brew now. They're already the correct prescription – I found it while organizing your files a few weeks ago."

He looked over the glasses, turning them over in his hands while nodding slowly. He pulled his old frames off and slowly slid the new ones on carefully. He turned to face her with an awkward expression on his face.

She grinned with delight. "Very sharp, Master Belby. I must say that I have excellent taste," she said proudly.

He snorted but stuck his old pair in the box and snapped it shut. "Thank you I suppose," he mumbled. Rowan felt her heart sing at his words.

He shifted uncomfortably and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I haven't got anything for you," he said awkwardly.

She smiled and waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense, you already pay me! That's enough of a gift, isn't it?" she joked lightly. It was the truth. She hadn't expected him to give her anything, and she wasn't exactly sure how she would've reacted if he had.

He grunted in response and then moved to place the box in a drawer in his desk. Rowan stood and started pulling her coat on.

"Sure I can't interest you in Christmas dinner? Remus will be there – I know how much you love werewolves," she joked.

He snorted derisively in response and waved her off. She laughed lightly as she picked up her bag.

"Merry Christmas, Master Belby," she said happily as she moved towards the stairs.

Just as she reached the top, she heard him call out after her, "Merry Christmas, girl."

* * *

><p>That evening, the Delacroix family threw a small get together for their close friends, including the Potters and the Lupins. Mina and Sirius were spending their Christmas with the Surreys, and Peter with his parents on holiday in the countryside. Rowan mused that it would be amazingly entertaining to see Sirius with Mina's little brother Will on holiday. The younger boy had nearly idolized Sirius during his First Year, and she wondered how their dynamic had changed since the young man had begun dating his older sister. She hadn't seen him since they'd graduated – wouldn't he be in his Third Year now?<p>

It was their first Christmas since John and Leanna had passed, and though the group was grateful to see the year end peacefully, it was bittersweet. It was also the first Christmas that Rowan and Remus had really spent as just friends since their Fifth Year at Hogwarts. Rowan still felt slightly stiff at times figuring out their new – or was it old – dynamic, but they had been getting better at resuming their friendship.

Carole, Alfred, and Julia had created a beautiful dinner for the party, and by the end of pudding, Lyall and Richard were on their way to being quite drunk. Rowan couldn't help but laugh with gratitude in her heart as she watched the two older men laugh raucously together like they were old friends. She mused for a moment that they might have been in-laws under different circumstances. She scowled inwardly at herself for the lapse and pushed the thought away.

As the evening continued, Rowan, James and Remus got roped into drinking with the older men, sitting around the floor by their feet. As drinks got knocked back, it became more and more apparent to the party that Remus was bad at holding his liquor. Indeed, Rowan had matched him drink for drink and barely had a buzz whereas he was quite tipsy, which was even more pathetic when one considered that he was nearly twice her size. The older men got quite a laugh from it, slapping Remus on the back and laughing harder as he swayed in his seat.

"He must have gotten it from his mother! She was never able to hold her liquor," his father said jovially. Remus scowled slightly at his father, and Rowan beamed happily at the thought of a bubbly but tipsy Leanna.

Richard grinned proudly at Rowan. "I might not have gotten a son, but my girl sure can drink like one!" he boomed proudly, ruffling her hair affectionately. James snickered at her.

"She sure dresses like one too," James teased. Rowan glowered at him and punched him hard in the arm. The older men laughed wildly at James' whimpers.

"Rowan, dear, go fetch your old records! We should have some music!" Carole called. The men shouted in agreement, and Rowan laughed, as she stood wobbly to run to her room. As she moved to her shelf, she looked over them quickly and didn't feel like sorting through them, so she grabbed the whole stack.

As she dropped them in front of her mother on the coffee table and sat back down, she watched as the other three women sorted through them, commenting on a few. Lily pulled one out in particular, and Rowan felt herself choke slightly on her drink as she realized that it was one of the old French records that Remus had sent her for her sixteenth birthday.

"Oh, I love this record!" she cooed dreamily. "Can we listen to this one?" she asked Carole eagerly.

Carole smiled fondly at the cover. "Oh, Rowan used to listen to this for hours," she said nostalgically. "Yes, pop it into the player, dear."

Rowan stared down into her glass and felt her face burn. She hadn't listened to those old love songs in years, as they always reminded her of her sad pining for Remus. She couldn't bring herself to look up in fear that he had recognized the record.

But as the smoky voice of the female crooner began to sing, she didn't have time to stress as she felt someone grab her hand roughly, snatching her drink from her hands and placing it on the table before jerking her to her feet. James pulled her into his arms dramatically and began turning her around the room.

"Oh, James, you remember!" Julia cried happily.

James and Rowan's mothers had forced them to take etiquette classes when they were young, before their Hogwarts years, and they'd spent hours learning the proper eating utensils and how to dance "like a lady and gentleman should," according to the older women. They'd both hated it, often playing pranks on their instructors and purposefully spilling food over their dress robes during the dining lessons. They had even gone so far as to trade clothes mid-lesson once, much to the horror of their instructors and fury of their mothers. The only times they'd willingly used their dancing lessons was with their parents at Ministry events and weddings, and even then, it was often painful.

But as James turned her around the room for the first time in years, though a bit drunkenly, Rowan couldn't help but laugh and feel slightly grateful for the lessons. They moved rather gracefully, considering their intoxication, and Rowan was struck by how much they'd grown. She forgot the awkwardness of the song and laughed along with James and the older men's drunken hollering. When the song ended and shifted to the next one, he dipped her low and dramatically, and they both laughed with delight. As he righted her back up, she pulled away and grabbed Lily, pushing her into James' embrace.

"Your turn!" she exclaimed happily.

Lily's face turned red. "But I don't know how!" she cried, flustered.

James and Rowan laughed and showed her the basic steps. In no time, Lily had picked it up, though still slightly awkward and nervous, and Rowan sat back down on the floor by Remus and their fathers and watched the pair fondly.

* * *

><p>By the end of the night, all three of the older men were quite drunk, and the mothers spoke in hushed tones in the drawing room. Richard pulled Lyall and Alfred into his study to share with him a rare bottle of firewhiskey that he'd procured from a colleague, and James and Lily were once again lost in their tiny world for two.<p>

This left Rowan and Remus. She was feeling quite warm from the drinking and dancing and decided to step outside for a moment and invited Remus to come with her. She was too drunk to care if it was awkward. Besides, they used to sneak out onto the grounds together all the time at Hogwarts, right?

"Care for a quick walk?" she asked Remus.

He smiled and nodded, standing to his feet with her, and they pulled on their coats before stepping outside.

It was cold and refreshing. The snow glowed blue in the nighttime light. The snow of the yard was untouched, and Rowan was overcome with the urge to mark it. She ran out into the snow with a loud cry, startling Remus, and threw herself into it. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the clear starry sky and shouted loudly into the air, just for the sake of disrupting the silent night.

She heard a soft laugh and the crunching of snow as Remus approached her slowly. When he reached her feet, he turned and laid down next to her.

"You're such a child," he teased.

She blew a raspberry at him. "I prefer whimsical, thank you," she replied smartly.

They breathed the cold winter air deeply and stared up at the sky, enjoying the other's company in silence.

"It's been a long time since we've done this," he noted.

Rowan hummed in agreement. "Yeah, it was all much easier in school," she replied. "I wonder if anyone uses our old spot now."

Remus sighed but didn't respond, and they continued to lie there for a few more minutes before Rowan felt the snow melting into her clothes. She shivered.

Remus seemed to notice and said softly, "Come on. Let's go inside before you get sick."

He stood slowly and brushed himself off before reaching out and grabbing Rowan's hand, pulling her to her feet. The dizzy tipsiness she'd felt when they'd come out was suddenly gone, and the world around her seemed much more focused. She looked up at Remus and was reminded of all the times he'd pulled her from the snow at Hogwarts, but he looked so much older now, no longer the boy of her old memories. She wondered if she looked any different. His eyes glowed in the moonlight.

They moved slowly back toward the house, snow crunching beneath her feet loudly. As they opened the door, they took their wet boots off and shook their clothes out, removing their coats and hanging them to dry. She felt the heat of the house seep into her slowly, her cheeks and ears still burning from the cold. She knew they were probably pink.

It suddenly seemed very quiet, and as they moved slowly back towards the center of the house, she felt a dull ache in her chest at the proximity between them. It was if she was distantly reliving an old memory, and the feeling was bittersweet.

Just as they reached the long hallway that led back to the drawing room, Remus grabbed her hand and pulled her back gently. She looked at him, confused, and he smiled anxiously at her. He glanced upward. Rowan followed his gaze and saw mistletoe hanging from a light above them, and her stomach flipped. She looked back at him and licked her lips nervously.

"For old times' sake?" he asked softly. She thought she saw his gaze darken for a moment, but it must have been a trick of the light.

She smiled nervously back at him. Her face burned, but she replied, "Sure."

As he leaned forward, he reached up to brush her hair from her face, which was wet from the snow. His fingers were surprisingly warm, and the calluses on his fingertips grazed her cheek. She repressed a shiver.

His lips met hers softly, chastely, and she held her breath, forcing herself not to move, not to deepen it. His mouth moved against hers momentarily before pulling back, and in an instant, it was over. Rowan felt the imprint of his lips on hers and had to stop herself from reaching up to touch them with her fingers. His face was still lowered close to hers, and she saw him smile gently at her. She could barely breathe.

"Merry Christmas, Winnie," he whispered before pulling away. He smiled again and took her hand in his tenderly, pulling her down the hallway slowly.

The dreamlike state Rowan had been in before remained, and as they moved down the hall, her mind was in a daze. It all seemed very surreal.

She looked down at his hand, whose fingers were clasped around her own loosely. She still felt the ache of longing but smiled sadly at the dullness of it. She noted that despite their kiss, they were still very much just friends, and as this year ended, he was no longer hers.


	17. Of Sacrifice in the Face of Fire

**A/N**: Sad again… This entire story is just sad…

I noticed that there are a lot fewer views for Ch. 14 than Ch. 15... Did some of you skip it by accident? I did post them at the same time, so it'd make sense if you just jumped to the last chapter by accident without realizing the double post. Ch. 15 doesn't make much sense without the one before it, so make sure you didn't skip over it!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Of Sacrifice in the Face of Fire<strong>

The New Year passed quietly, and the Order was grateful that the Death Eaters had left the holidays alone. Remus never mentioned their quiet Christmas Eve kiss again, and Rowan did her best to forget it, though the feeling of his lips against hers remained for some time after. She'd thrown herself back into her work with Belby after the holidays to distract herself, and they'd begun searching for research grants and test subjects, though the subjects would be easier to find once they'd procured some more funding.

Their manic hours of working had continued into January and passed into February almost seamlessly. Her missions with the Order had been small but successful, and her friendship with Remus had returned to normal. Overall, it had been a wonderful and happy month.

One evening early in February, Rowan was planning on spending another late night in the lab with Belby.

"Master Belby, I'm going to step out for a cup of coffee. Would you like some?" she asked, stretching her stiff limbs as she stood.

He grunted in response.

"Ok, one cream, right?" she asked.

He grunted again, and she snickered, pulling on her coat and walking up the stairs.

Alexander cooed at her softly in greeting. She rubbed him affectionately on the head before heading out of the shop and into the cold, relishing the cool air in her lungs. She looked up at the sky and noted happily that the moon was still in its waning phase. She hummed softly to herself as she headed down the street for Rosa Lee's, jingling a few Knuts in her pocket.

* * *

><p>Damocles Belby continued to work diligently after his apprentice left. He stopped and pulled his glasses onto his forehead to rub his eyes blearily. He thought mildly that it was a good time for her to get coffee.<p>

"Customer! Customer!" he heard Alexander squawk from above the lab. He grumbled to himself in annoyance and moved to the base of the stairs.

"We're closed! Come back tomorrow!" he shouted up the stairs, but no one responded. He waited to listen for the bell to ring again, indicating that they'd left, but he only heard muffled voices and faint shuffling.

"Hey! Didn't you hear me? We're closed!" he shouted again, starting to grow angry.

Suddenly, he heard a crash of glass bottles and panic seized him. He grabbed his wand and ran up the stairs. As soon as he turned the corner, he threw a Stunning Spell at the first figure he saw, hitting a dark-robed form, which grunted and fell into a shelf, sending another wave of bottles down to the ground in shatters.

Alexander began flapping his ragged wings wildly and shrieking with fear, "_Intruder! Intruder!"_

A flash of green light shot past Belby and hit the wall behind him, sending it into green flames. They singed his ears, and he cried out in pain. Alexander kept shrieking and thrashing, and the remaining Death Eater shouted at him in anger, "Shut _up!_" throwing another green beam of light at the bird. Alexander seized for a moment for dropping to the ground with a sickening thud.

Belby roared in anger at the sight of his dead shopkeeper and threw another hex at the Death Eater, but he dodged it and the spell hit another shelf of potions.

"_Get the hell out of my shop!"_ he shouted, throwing spell after spell, but the dark figure ran across the room quickly, dodging and blocking the Potions Master's attacks.

"You're too slow, old man!" taunted the Death Eater gleefully. He pointed his wand at a wall and spouted green fire from his wand at the shelves there, which burst into flames.

Belby's throat constricted, and he realized that this insane man would burn his entire building down. He turned and ran down the stairs, slamming the door and locking it behind him magically. He stumbled down the stairs, tripping over the last few, and ran to his notes. He gathered up everything he could grab and began shoving all of it into boxes, muttering fireproofing charms on all of them. He heard the man pounding on the door above him.

"_Come on out, you old bastard! You can't hide from me!"_ he jeered.

Damocles rushed around the room, grabbing test tubes and vials, notebooks and old texts. He whispered every protective charm he could possibly think of on the boxes, but before he could finish, the door burst open and a sea of green flames shot through. He felt the searing heat as the fire began to trickle down the wooden steps and scrambled to his feet.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_ he shouted. A silvery elephant burst from his wand and stood its ground in front of him, stamping its feet wildly and forming a glowing shield in front of its master. He braced himself and pushed the boxes into the far corner, preparing to fight. He would protect those files with his life.

* * *

><p>As Rowan stepped out of the teashop with two cups of coffee in her hands, she moved carefully into the snow so to not spill them, as she often did with hot drinks. She mentally patted herself on the back for thinking to buy a few chocolate biscuits for her and Master Belby, which were tucked under her arm in a small brown bag. But as she walked out onto the sidewalk, she saw green smoke billowing in the distance and realized it was coming from the street the apothecary was on. Panic squeezed her lungs, and she threw the coffee and biscuits to the side before sprinting towards the fire.<p>

She pulled out her wand as she ran and pointed it to the sky. "_Expecto Patronum!" _she shouted. A series of wolves ran into the distance, and she prayed with all her heart that Master Belby was safe.

The apothecary was in flames. Rowan saw the roaring green fire and was seized with terror. All of the memories of the night Edgar died came rushing back, and she nearly lost her footing in the moment of nausea. Ministry fire officials and Healers were rushing onto the scene, but she knew that it would require serious magic to put out that fire.

"_Master Belby!" _she shouted. She couldn't spot him anywhere in the crowd, and terror settled into her blood. Before she could think, she'd rushed forward for the door but was pulled back violently by a red-robed official.

"Miss, you can't go in there!" he cried disbelievingly.

She kept pulling, desperate, hysterical. "My master in there! _Somebody has to save him!" _she screamed. She yanked her hand from his grasp and threw the door open.

The heat was overwhelming, and she felt her stomach hit her throat sickeningly as her body responded to the familiar burning. She summoned another Patronus, which formed a silvery field around her, pushing the flames out, and she ran inside of the shop.

"_Master Belby!" _she screamed, looking around desperately. She saw a Death Eater lying listlessly on the floor beneath a broken shelf then ran towards the stairs. She choked at the sight of Alexander's limp body on the ground but pushed the horror back to keep going. The heat was overwhelming, even with the Patronus' protection, and she felt sweat dripping down her back. Her arm stung at the proximity to the cursed fire. As she approached the stairs, she heard shouting from below.

"DELACROIX!" a rough voice shouted.

"MASTER BELBY, I'M HERE!" she screamed over the roaring flames, but just as she was about to take a step onto the stairs, a piece of it crumbled away. Her throat constricted and she couldn't move from the fear. How was she supposed to get him out of there?

She saw the silvery wolf in front of her begin to flicker, and the panic seized her again, but just as she'd lifted her arm to conjure another, she felt an arm yank her back by the shoulder. Her feet suddenly left the ground and an arm was digging into her stomach painfully. She realized with horror that she was being dragged from the shop.

"NO!" she screamed. "MASTER BELBY IS STILL IN THERE! LET ME GO!" She flailed and kicked as hard as she could, but her captor remained firm, running out the door and into the cold. A trio of men ran in past them. She recognized the wild mane of gray hair bolting past her as belonging to Alastor Moody. Her screaming increased, wanting desperately to help her comrade.

As their lungs hit the cold air, they both collapsed to the ground. Rowan kicked and punched at the man who had pulled her from the fire.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? MASTER BELBY IS STILL IN THERE! I HAVE TO SAVE HIM!" she cried hysterically, beating at her captor's chest. Tears were streaming down her face.

All she could think about was the burning green flames and her master trapped in the basement. What if he got hurt? She couldn't let him get burn like she did! Why was this man keeping her from him?

He grabbed her wrists and wrestled her down. "Rowan! _Rowan!"_ he shouted. "Rowan, you have to stop!"

But she kept fighting him. "_You don't understand!"_ she cried. "_He's hurt! I need to help him! I need to save him! Everything that I've worked for!"_ she screamed desperately, twisting her body violently and thrashing wildly.

Suddenly, there was a gasp from the crowd as two bodies burst from the window. One was Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the other was the collapsed Death Eater from the floor. Another man burst from the window with a large box of burning material – Fabian Prewett. The contents of the box spilled over as he collapsed on the ground, green flames trickling over them. He pulled off his dragon hide coat and stamped the fire out quickly, though some of the material was burnt.

But where was Moody?

An explosion burst from the shop, shattering what remained of the windows. Fabian and Kingsley threw themselves to the ground, narrowly dodging the flames. With the explosion came two more men flying through the door, crashing to the ground. Both were covered in green flames.

Belby was screaming.

Rowan took the opportunity to push her restrainer off and scrambled towards her master. She yanked off Moody's burning coat, luckily also dragon hide, and he scrambled away from it as fast as he could. She then wildly grabbed for Fabian's from his hands, covering Belby in the jacket and stamping out every inch she could reach. But he continued to scream.

As she tore the coat away from him, she saw that half of his face had been burnt away, chunks of his hair singed off and missing. His ear and part of his nose were gone. A large portion of his robes had been cooked into his skin. The flesh was raw and red and smelled like burning meat, and she could see his tendons where the skin had been burnt away completely. An overwhelming wave of nausea hit her, and she gasped, trying not to vomit. The sounds of his screaming shook her to the core, and her head swam as she felt the earth beneath her shift.

He continued to scream and writhe in agony, and she suddenly felt herself being pulled away again as a group of Healers rushed forward to help the Potions Master. Instead of fight this time though, she could only watch in terror as the men in white levitated her master up from the ground and onto a stretcher. He continued to scream. The shrill sound was horrifying – it didn't sound like him at all. She barely recognized his gnarled, burnt form. _How had this happened to him? Why?_

"Rowan! _Rowan!_" the man was shaking her again, and she had to refocus her gaze before looking up at him. It was Remus.

"Rowan, we have to get you out of here," he said fiercely. His eyes pierced her, and she suddenly felt incredibly weak.

"But," she protested weakly. "Master Belby… I have to go see him. He needs me!" she cried. She felt a fresh wave of tears spill over.

"No, I need to take you home!" he fought back angrily.

"Remus, you don't understand!" she argued, trying to push away from him, but he stood firmly. "I have to go to him! _Please!"_

Remus had opened his mouth to keep arguing, but a hand clapped on his shoulder roughly.

"Let her go, Remus. She needs to be with her master," Kingsley said to him gravely. "We'll take the Death Eater to the Ministry for questioning and the box back to Headquarters. She can get it there later."

Remus' mouth tightened in a serious line. He looked angry, but he didn't say anything and nodded slowly. He turned back to Rowan. "Come on," he said softly.

He took her hand and pulled her out of the crowd. Once they'd managed to get enough space, he pulled her against him possessively and looked down at her, grief stricken across his face, before Disapparating for St. Mungo's.


	18. Of Timeless Devotion

**A/N**: This is a very long chapter, but it didn't feel right to break it into two chapters. It's sad… This entire story is just sad…

Revised and edited as of 8/6/14

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18: Of Timeless Devotion<strong>

Rowan sat by Damocles Belby's bed as soon as she was permitted to. He'd undergone extensive operations as soon as he'd arrived at St. Mungo's, and though the Healers had worked hours on him, they informed her that the damage done to his respiratory system and nervous system had been too severe – he probably wouldn't survive through the week.

Kingsley had sent her word that the Death Eater they'd arrested was named Igor Karkaroff, a foreign wizard from Bulgaria. While being questioned, he'd admitted that he had come with an accomplice, who had escaped in the mayhem but was responsible for the fire. Although he seemed to be talking, Karkaroff wouldn't release any names yet without being offered a deal, and Rowan was relieved that Kingsley and Moody weren't taking it. The pure anger and hatred that Rowan felt shook her body, and she had never been filled with such a desire to hurt someone. She suddenly understood the darkness that she had seen in Remus with great bitterness.

But she stayed by Belby's side, wavering between staring listlessly at his broken form and half-sleep – she didn't know how long she'd been there. Had it been hours or days? His entire body was covered in bandages with red, raw flesh peeking out from beneath the gauzy white strips. Her eyes stung with hot tears as she scanned over where large parts of the left side of his face were suddenly missing. If she hadn't known it was him, would she have recognized his face?

She held his good hand throughout the night and slept next to him with her head rested on the mattress, praying silently that maybe her energy might seep into him. She dreamt of green fire and melted snow.

* * *

><p>When she woke the next morning, her hands still clung to his. But there was also a tightness in his grip. She sat up and looked at his face, then jerked when she saw that his good eye was cracked open slightly.<p>

"Master Belby!" she cried. She wanted to crow with joy, but it was dampened at the slowness of his gaze. His focus shifted slowly, painfully, and she could tell that it took him great effort to even move his eye towards her. Her throat felt tight.

"Master Belby," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't save you," she apologized. The tears began to fall again.

"All of your work!" she sobbed. "Fabian could only save one box. After everything we did… After all that you've done, how could this…" she trailed off, unable to continue. She gripped his hand tightly.

When he squeezed her hand back, she looked back up at him and saw a shining glimmer at the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand again, and she stared at him disbelievingly. Damocles Belby was crying. She felt her tears fall freely, horrified and ashamed. How had things turned out this way?

He breathed hard, as if trying to speak but was unable and squeezed her hand tighter. A sob threatened to tear from her lungs. The tear finally broke from the crease of his eye and began to roll down his face. It shimmered and seemed to catch the light. But no - it was _emitting_ the light. Rowan was suddenly filled with understanding.

She tore her hands from his and groped around her coat pocket, pulling out an empty glass vial. She stood and held the lip to his cheek, and the tear pooled into it. Another few tears streaked down his face like liquid silver, and she carefully pulled the vial away and corked it.

She gazed at the vial in her hands, which glowed brightly, and then looked back to Belby, who had closed his eyes again. He breathed deeply, wheezing, and she was overcome with bittersweet affection for the man. She reached down to squeeze his hand again, and he squeezed back lightly. Within a few minutes, his breath evened out again. He had fallen back asleep.

When she knew that he was resting soundly, she slipped her hand from his and pulled her coat on, but just as she reached the door, it swung open. Remus stood there wide-eyed and startled.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need a Pensieve!" she declared fiercely.

His mouth took on a taut line. "We have to see Dumbledore," he said quietly before taking her hand in his and leading her out of the room.

* * *

><p>Rowan gazed up at Hogwarts with a deep longing ache. She hadn't returned to the castle since they'd graduated, and all of her memories there came rushing back at just the sight of its tall towers against the bleak gray sky. Remus had Apparated them to Hogsmeade and then sent a Patronus ahead of them to inform the Headmaster that they were coming. As they walked up the path to the castle, he gripped her hand tightly. She wasn't sure how to feel about it.<p>

When they reached the castle, Professor McGonagall was at the entrance waiting for them. Her mouth was a firm line, but her eyes were full of grief.

"Delacroix, I'm so sorry to hear what happened," she said emphatically.

Rowan nodded in acknowledgement and thanked her old Head of House for her kind words. McGonagall then led them up to Professor Dumbledore's office.

When they reached the gargoyle in the Headmaster's Tower, she muttered, "Sassafras," and the statue leapt to the side, revealing a spiral staircase.

When they reached the top, Rowan marveled at the wondrous circular room. In all the years that she'd been at Hogwarts, the Headmaster's office still remained the most fantastic to her, and she regretted slightly that she hadn't gotten into enough trouble to be sent there more often. As she gazed around the room, she saw a stone basin with intricate runes carved into it set in a cabinet against the wall, already open. She recognized it as the Pensieve that Remus had mentioned.

Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, which was covered in intricate, whirring shiny instruments, and she felt great relief at just the sight of the old wizard. There was something so safe, so reassuring about this man. She couldn't believe that anyone would ever gaze at him without something along the lines of adoration and security.

"Rowan, Remus, so good to see you," he said softly. "I'm so terribly sorry to hear what has happened to Damocles. I am planning on going to see him later this evening," he said sadly.

Rowan smiled sadly. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sure he'll appreciate it," she said. Remus squeezed her hand.

Dumbledore nodded. "So Remus says you need to use my Pensieve," he said. He gestured to the instrument and stood calmly from his desk. "You are most welcome to it. I will show you how it works, and then I'll leave you to your privacy," he said, walking over to the basin.

Rowan and Remus followed him over. She handed him the vial of Belby's memories, which he poured into the basin. They swirled slowly in a silvery haze, and she thought she might be hypnotized by it.

"All you need to do is lean into the memory, and the Pensieve will do the rest!" he said lightly. "And now, I will leave you to it." He looked to Remus, who squeezed Rowan's hand once more and gave her a burning look but then left with the Headmaster. When she heard the door at the bottom of the spiral staircase shut, she turned back to the basin.

The memories swirled slowly, soothingly. She stuck her finger in experimentally. She'd expected it to be wet, but it was cool and gaseous and had no further effect on her.

_Lean into it_.

She leaned forward over the basin, lower, lower, until her face hovered above the silver gas. With a deep breath, she lowered her nose into the silvery swirl and felt herself being sucked forward, turning, twisting, falling into Damocles Belby's past.

* * *

><p>Rowan found herself in the laboratory. Besides the area that had been made her workspace, the room looked exactly the same. She saw Belby sitting at his desk, scribbling into a notebook. His back was hunched in its usual way, his shoulders up by his ears in concentration. Rowan moved closer with chest tight - she wanted to see his whole face - and nearly gasped at his appearance. His hair was darker, thicker than she'd ever seen. His eyes, though still with glasses, were brighter, clearer. There weren't any tired lines set into his face, and the scowl that she had grown accustomed to wasn't there either. He looked so much younger, so much kinder. He looked to be about thirty, possibly even younger.<p>

She heard the chiming of the front door, but Alexander's voice was missing. The air felt empty without it.

"Hello?" a voice called out. It was female.

"Down here!" he called up. His voice was still rough but held none of the harshness to it that she'd always heard from him. It sounded warm, comforting almost. She wanted to hear it again.

A soft step was heard from the stairs, followed by another hesitant tap of shoe on wood. Slowly, a young woman made her way down, each step a carefully considered movement, tight with nerves. As she approached, Rowan saw dark rings beneath her eyes. Her cheeks looked sunken. Her clothes, though well-kept, were old and worn out. She had a long red scar running down her neck, and Rowan suddenly understood.

"Please, have a seat," Belby gestured towards an empty chair at the end of his desk. She moved forward, still nervous, and sat down quietly, feet drawn beneath the seat and hands fidgeting at her lap.

She looked harder at the woman's face as she sat. She was blonde and petite, though the lines in her features made her look tired and older than she probably was. She had a heart-shaped face with a small mouth and round eyes that looked much too large for her thin face. Her hair was pulled back modestly and had a few streaks of silvery white in it. She was very pretty. Rowan felt a dull sense of deja vu.

"Ms. Acina, right?" Belby asked, assessing her briefly before turning back to his notes.

"Marie is fine, sir," she said quietly.

Belby nodded vaguely. "Please, just call me Damocles," he said calmly. His voice wasn't very expressive, but it was warm. She marveled at how different he was.

"So why is it that you're willing to take on this position? It's not exactly safe, particularly for such a young woman," he said, eyeing her cautiously.

Marie seemed to be turning her thoughts through her head. "Well, to be honest, I need the money, sir – uh, Damocles," she said weakly.

He frowned. "It's not a great deal of money though," he said. He then looked harder at her. "A potions tester is quite a risky job, and it's not exactly a full-time position. Don't you think it'd be more appropriate to find work elsewhere? A young woman like you could easily find a job that poses less of a threat to your health," he said seriously.

She grimaced and seemed to be lost in thought again. Her hands wrung in her lap tightly. Rowan examined her thin fingers and saw a series of small, pearly nicks running up and down them. Her mouth trembled slightly.

"I can't find another job," she finally admitted softly, shame written across her features. She almost looked physically pained by her admission. "I'm… I'm a werewolf, you see. No one will hire me," she said tinily, looking down at her hands with her voice trembling.

Belby's eyes widened with understanding. He looked her over carefully with some fear in his eyes. He leaned back slightly as if afraid that he might catch this terrible disease from her, and she shrunk back with embarrassment.

"A werewolf?" he breathed. Rowan noted the horror in his voice with great surprise. She stood next to Marie almost defensively before remembering that neither of them could see her.

Marie's head bowed with shame. Rowan's hands clenched with softly flaring anger. She thought of Remus' shame, his self-loathing. She was suddenly grateful for men like Dumbledore and Fabian Prewett, who were open-minded enough to see Remus for what he was and not for the condition that had been forced upon him. She was grateful that Remus hadn't gone through such a demoralizing ordeal.

But then Belby's gaze softened slightly. He leaned back forward slowly, eyes scanning over this frail woman's tiny frame. Her gaze remained downward, limbs pulled in tightly. Rowan watched as Belby's own posture loosened and unfolded.

"How old are you?" he finally asked softly.

Marie's head jerked up with surprise. Her mouth gaped slightly. She looked at him like he was a ghost. He smiled gently at her. Her lip quivered.

"I'm twenty-one, sir," she said weakly.

He nodded. "Twenty-one," he echoed softly. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, mouth twisting with thought. Rowan recognized the gesture as her master's with a surge of warmth. "I'm assuming you weren't able to attend Hogwarts. Do you know any magic?" he asked stiffly. "Have a wand?"

She nodded eagerly, head bobbing jerkily. "My mum's," she said in a rush. Rowan saw a slight spark in her eyes at the topic of magic. "My parents taught me as much as they could, and I've been studying some potion-making on my own lately. It's all fascinating, especially Golpalott. I'm reading a biography about him right now actually," she said quickly. Rowan felt her chest swell with affection for this young woman. Her enthusiasm nearly mirrored her own.

Belby smiled fondly. The expression seemed so foreign. Rowan had never even considered what he might look like smiling so gently, but it fit his face somehow, just right. "Yes, Golpalott is quite the fascinating figure - an amazing thinker," he agreed softly. Marie smiled sheepishly and smiled, a pretty blush rising to her pale cheeks. The smile on Belby's face deepened slightly in response. He sighed defeatedly.

"Alright, you can have the job," he conceded. Marie's entire body seemed to jerk in response. Her chest shot forward, back straight as a board.

"Really?" she breathed disbelievingly. Her eyes were as wide and round and the moon. Belby nodded, smiling crookedly.

"You can also manage my shop part time," he said softly. "It's a simple job, and I won't be able to pay you much, but it's something. I have plenty of books you can look over too while tending to the shop. I'm sure you can find something in there to keep you busy."

Marie's entire body trembled. Her large eyes filled with tears, and she wiped furiously at them. She looked back up at him with fire in her gaze, and Rowan was struck suddenly by how young she looked. She wondered if she'd ever looked at Belby like that.

"Thank you so much, sir!" Marie exclaimed. Her mouth had already stretched into the most disbelieving, elated smile. Her hands trembled and awkwardly flailed slightly, elbows still pulled in tightly. "I promise you won't regret it. I swear I won't burden you. Thank you so much!" she rambled, flooding with gratitude.

Belby laughed lightly. "I'm sure you will. And again, Damocles is fine," he said, standing.

She stood with him, shaking his hand furiously with raw gratitude, and he guided her back to the stairs. They walked back up to the shop together, and as Rowan heard him opening the door for Marie, the memory faded away into another.

* * *

><p>She was suddenly standing in the shop. Rowan looked about her and saw that, like the laboratory, not much had changed over the years. The same shelves lined the walls in a very similar organizational system. Rowan nearly smiled - Belby was a creature of habit through and through, it seemed. It was somewhat comforting.<p>

Marie was perched in a seat at the counter, but what surprised Rowan was that Belby was also seated there, talking softly with her. There was a potions book open in front of them, and he was gesturing to a diagram in it, explaining it to her. She looked enthralled by it, excitement dancing in her eyes. She looked back and forth between the book and Belby with an expression of wonder and awe on her features.

Belby, in turn, spoke fervently about the book's contents. He gesticulated animatedly, his voice undulating more than Rowan had thought was possible for the usually monotonous man. He smiled warmly at the blonde woman beside him. Between them, there was a large bar of chocolate lying out on its unfolded metal wrapper, a few pieces missing.

Marie's hair was pulled back loosely from her face, and Rowan noted that there was a new, thin scar that ran right above her left eyebrow. But she looked happy, and her skin seemed to glow with it. Rowan noticed the light blush that would dust her cheeks whenever Belby would look at her intensely. She obviously adored him.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and the bell rang. Marie looked up brightly and smiled at the large man who appeared in the doorway.

"Welcome!" she said. Her voice sounded much brighter and stronger than it had in the previous memory. "Can I help you with anything today?"

The man beamed at the young woman. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a heavy brow and a rosy, squared face.

"I was wondering if you carried any garden gnome repellant. I've got a terrible infestation, and the missus said she'd tear me head off if I didn't do something about it soon," he said jovially. Marie smiled broadly and stood, moving around the counter and leading the man to a far-off shelf.

Rowan looked back at Belby and was shocked at the expression on his face. He was gazing at Marie with the gentlest look she'd ever seen on him. It was yearning, hungry almost. She recognized it as the same look Remus used to aim at her with a dull ache of sadness.

Belby was in love with this girl.

Suddenly, she heard a yelp and looked back at Marie and the large man. She nearly jumped as she saw that he had grabbed her roughly by the upper arm, eyes scanning furiously over her face. Rowan instinctively moved towards them and shouted at him angrily but realized dumbly that she was in a memory. He reached up and grabbed Marie's jaw, twisting her face to the side, and Rowan saw his eyes widen angrily at the scar that ran up her neck.

"_A werewolf!_" he shouted, pushing Marie back so that she stumbled into the shelf behind her. She crumpled to the ground and gasped with panic, twisting around quickly to steady the shelf as the bottles clinked dangerously against each other.

"_You've hired a werewolf!"_ the man shouted at Belby. "_What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill all of us?"_ he accused angrily.

Belby had jumped to his feet the moment the large man had grabbed Marie and was already in the man's face with his wand.

"She's not dangerous!" he shouted at the larger man. "Just look at her! She's just a girl! _Apologize to her now!"_

The large man roared with anger and shoved Belby away from him violently. Belby slammed hard into another cabinet of potions, which crashed to the ground, the glass display windows shattering, scattering glass around them in a deafening wave. Marie screamed with fright.

But just as his attacker had pulled his wand out, Belby shouted, "_Expelliarmus!"_ and the large man was thrown backward, onto the ground. His wand was tossed to the side and skidded towards the door.

Belby scrambled to his feet and ran at the man, jabbing his wand in his face. The large man raised his hands up in defeat. Belby was panting, his hair and robes disheveled. His glasses were slightly skewed on his nose.

"Get out," he spat. "You're no longer welcome in my shop." The man on the ground seemed to be frozen, staring blankly up at him. "GET OUT!" he shouted.

The man scrambled to his feet and grabbed his wand on the way out. He ran out the door and didn't look back. The doorbell's small chime filled the now silent space emptily.

Belby seethed and stared after his lost customer then remembered Marie. He turned quickly and saw the girl, still crumpled on the ground, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. He moved towards her with worry etched across his face.

"Damocles," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should've let you hire me. Look what I've done to your shop!" she sobbed. Tears were falling from her eyes.

"No," he said firmly, grabbing her hands. "You didn't do anything. You were doing your job. That man did this, not you. None of this is your fault," he said fiercely. His eyes burned into her, and she looked as if she might break.

Her lip trembled. "But it was because of me!" she cried. "You're too kind, too good! I can't stay here, or you'll start losing all of your customers! I have to-" she started but then she looked around her wildly, hysterically. She pulled her hands from his as if he'd shocked her and frantically started picking up pieces of the broken glass.

"Marie, leave it," he said firmly, but she continued, seemingly deaf to his voice. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she fumbled for the glass pieces. They tinkered and clacked against each other in her tiny palm.

"Marie!" he said, beginning to sound angry. His tone suddenly reminded her of the Belby she knew.

Finally, he grabbed her by the wrist, making her drop the glass shards in her hands and pulled her to him. She gasped, but it was silenced quickly as he covered her mouth with his.

Her eyes remained wide and scared as he moved his lips against her slowly, but as he reached a hand up to her hair, her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him back, hands trembling and knotted at the front of his robes. Rowan's stomach twisted painfully. She felt dirty for watching them. She shifted awkwardly, as if someone might walk in on them.

When he pulled away, Belby reached up and cradled her face in his hands. He gazed at her ardently before speaking. "I'm going to find a cure for your disease, and you will _never_ have to go through this again," he whispered. "I promise you. Stay with me."

Marie's chin trembled, and she burst into tears again. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, great and heaving. He held her to him tightly and rocked her gently. As Rowan watched them seated together in the middle of the sea of broken glass, her chest ached sharply, and she thought of Remus. She was sucked out the memory again.

* * *

><p>When the memory solidified, Rowan didn't know where she was. She stood in a house she didn't recognize, in a room that reminded her of her own home's drawing room with old leather chairs and a large fireplace. Belby stood in front of an older man, who was seated in a large chair. She saw the resemblance between the two and guessed that the older man was his father. Both were bristling with rage, and as the volume suddenly came into focus, her ears were filled with deafening shouts.<p>

"Stop talking nonsense!" the older man shouted at Damocles. "Seriously, _a werewolf?_ What the hell is the matter with you, boy?" he boomed.

"It doesn't matter that she's a werewolf!" Belby argued back. "If you'd just meet her - if you would just talk to her, _just once_ - you'd see that she's a good girl, that's she's sweet and kind and-"

"Can you hear yourself?" bellowed elder Belby. A vein throbbed at his temple with fury. "Do you hear the rubbish spewing from your mouth? You will ruin us with your stupidity! Just have your way with the Halfbreed whore and move on!"

Belby's eyes flared with anger. "You can't speak about her that way! I love her, and I'm going to marry her whether you like it or not!" he shouted. His face was red, and she saw the vein throb in his forehead.

The older man's face reddened as well, and he stood menacingly, facing off with his son. "If you marry that monster, I will disown you!" he threatened. "I have no need for an ungrateful bastard like you bearing my name, after all that I've done for you! After all the money I've poured into that damned apothecary of yours! _This is how you repay me?"_

"_Disown me then!"_ Belby shouted at his father. "I don't want anything to do with a family that's so ignorant, so _evil_, that you can't see past all the prejudice to see the woman I'm in love with!"

His father roared with anger. "_Get out of this house!_ GET OUT!" he screamed, throwing a glass into the fireplace. It shattered loudly, and Rowan flinched as she saw a few pieces of broken glass fly.

Belby turned angrily and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The older man continued to scream with rage, throwing the entire bottle of liquor into the fire with thrashing arms. Rowan raced after Belby quickly to get away from this frightening man, moving through the walls to keep up. As they reached the foyer, Marie was standing there alone, looking pale and frightened.

"Damocles," she started weakly, but he rushed forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the door.

"We're leaving," he spat angrily. "This entire family can burn in hell!"

She trembled and stumbled after him as he threw the door open. As they stepped out onto the front porch, he stopped and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide with fear and searching his face desperately. His expression softened.

"I love you, Marie," he whispered. Her lips trembled. "And if you'll have me then I promise to make you happy. I want you to be my wife," he said fervently.

Her chin trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. But she blinked them away and smiled brightly at him. She nodded jerkily and a small laugh bubbled from her chest. It rang clear and broke through the night. He beamed and held her to him tightly, and as he buried his face in her golden hair, they Disapparated on the spot.

* * *

><p>When Rowan regained her footing, she was no longer in the shop or in a house or seemingly even in London. She looked about her and realized that she was in a strange single-room hut. She looked outside the small, solitary window and saw that they were in a forest that she didn't recognize. It was dense, though she could see through the tops of the trees that it was nearly dark. The walls were covered in ancient runes and protective spells that she'd never seen before. She turned back to the couple before her and saw that Marie was completely naked and on the verge of tears. There were crumpled white flowers scattered at their feet.<p>

"Damocles, this is a terrible idea," she said desperately. "You need to leave right now!" she said beseechingly.

But Belby remained in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders with excitement.

"No, this is going to work! All of the trials before now have been perfect. This is going to work! You have to believe me!" he whispered heatedly to her, but Marie lowered her head and shook it violently. Rowan saw a few tears fall to the floor.

"Damocles, _please_," she begged. "You have to leave now! _Please!" _She was sobbing now, and a terrible sense of dread filled Rowan's stomach.

But as Belby was about to answer her, Marie's entire body seemed to seize. Rowan spun around to the window, eyes widening with horror. The moon was high in the sky, so bright and yellow and _full._

Rowan spun back around to see Belby staring at Marie cautiously. He took one step back slowly. Rowan watched with horror as Marie's eyes dilated.

Her entire body suddenly snapped forward, doubling over at the waist. Her back hunched and twisted. Her arms wrapped around herself tightly, as if in pain. Her nails began to tear at her own skin, clawing at it wildly, voice scratching and grunting with pain. Then there was a pop, then another, and another, as each vertebrae and rib seemed to pop out of place and elongate and stretch. Little dark speckles spread across her skin until Rowan worked up the courage to move closer - it was _hair._ She cringed as it pierced through the blonde woman's skin.

Marie continued to thrash and cry out in pain and anger as each bone and stretch of skin seemed to pull and twist agonizingly. But then, finally, she stilled. Rowan thought for a moment that the memory had stopped, but then she saw Belby move.

"Marie," he whispered. "Marie, it's working!" he breathed. His eyes were wide with elation.

But then the grotesque twisting continued. Her limbs stretched and cracked, and then she looked up, revealing the blackest, deepest eyes Rowan had ever imagined. Her face, too, had contorted into a long snout with long, sharp teeth bared, glinting in the moonlight. She was a full lycanthrope.

Panic seized Rowan. She turned frantically to Belby, who seemed to be frozen to the spot.

"Run!" she shouted at him but realized again that she was in a memory. Belby moved slowly towards the door, eyes never leaving Marie, who had also kept her focus on the thin wizard. She didn't move, however, and Rowan thought he might just be able to escape unscathed when Marie roared and leapt at him.

Belby screamed and flung the door open, hitting Marie in the face before running out and slamming it behind him. He held it shut, pushing his body up against the surface. The charms on the house seemed to hold Marie in, for she threw herself at the walls and window to no avail – she was trapped.

But just as Belby had taken a moment to breathe with relief, there was a crash of glass, and the blood drained from his face. Marie was clawing her way out of the hut, glass shards scratching her face and tangling in her fur. Belby took off sprinting into the woods.

Panting hard, he sprinted as fast as he could and looked around frantically for a place to hide, a place to climb. Rowan watched the young version of her Potions Master with horrified disbelief – how could this foolish man really be Master Belby? How had been so arrogant to think that his first experiment with a human subject would be successful? Had he not even considered a backup plan?

But as he spun around, Marie burst from the trees and rushed at him. He dodged, but one of her claws caught him in the side. He cried out in pain and held his wand out towards her. They circled each other, Marie growling lowly. But then she leapt at him again, and he threw a shot of red light at her.

"_Stupefy!"_ he shouted. Marie whimpered at the hit and Belby took the opportunity to run.

He ran and ran, gasping for breath, until he saw a clearing – a field of white flowers. They were white and pristine and seemed to go on forever. Just as he was about to make it out of the woods, however, Marie came charging up behind him.

He ducked as she soared over his head, landing somewhat ungracefully a good distance beyond him, roaring. They circled each other again, and Rowan couldn't breathe as she watched them.

"Marie, please!" Belby called out desperately, but the werewolf's face showed no recognition. She growled, and Rowan could see the hysteria in Belby.

Marie then charged at him again, and Rowan could see by his labored movements that he wouldn't be able to dodge her this time. She squeezed her eyes shut with terror.

"STUPEFY!"

She heard a blast followed by a sharp yelp of pain and a horrifying crunch. Rowan opened her eyes slowly and saw Belby, wide-eyed and pale but unharmed. She turned, and the sight sent a wave of nausea through her.

The werewolf was impaled on a short branch from a tree at the edge of the field, red blood dripping down the end of the branch. She whimpered pathetically and wriggled weakly against the trunk but was unable to get herself free.

Belby moved towards the tree, staggering drunkenly as if his knees had locked. He stood next to the werewolf as she struggled, watching with open-mouthed horror. As she lost strength, the field began to glow faintly, a haunting light emitted from the white flowers. Rowan saw her features begin to distort again. Slowly, the hair fell away, and the bones shrank beneath the skin, popping sickeningly back into place. In a few moments, the werewolf was gone, and Marie – blonde, frail, and naked – stood in its place. Her entire body trembled against the trunk, and all of the color had left her face. Blood stained her stomach and hands darkly, smearing across her pale skin.

Belby fell forward, panicking.

"Darling, just hold still. Hold still. Hold still!" he rambled. "I'll get you out. I promise! I'll get you out!"

Marie gasped shakily for breath, and Rowan could hear the wheezing – there was blood in her lungs.

Belby was still rambling madly, moving around the branch of the tree, searching desperately for a way to remove her from it. "Darling, I'm so sorry. We'll get you out, and then we'll go home. We're going to go home, so just hold still. We're going to go home!" His hands were trembling like mad, and his legs seemed to be ready to collapse at any moment.

Marie laid a calm hand on Belby's face. He jerked up to look at her, and she smiled gently. She coughed slightly, and a thin line of blood sprayed from her mouth and down her chin.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's all okay." She looked up at the moon, and her round eyes glowed like two smaller reflections of the celestial body. The lines in her young face seemed to melt away. "I finally… I finally got to see the full moon," she whispered.

Belby's entire body was shaking. Tears spilled from his eyes, mixing with the blood that had stained his cheeks from her hand, His breath came in short gasps.

Marie looked back down at him, still smiling serenely but eyes drooping. "I love you, Damocles. I love you so very much," she whispered. Her head began to loll.

He grasped her hands, groping for her fingers. "I love you, Marie. I love you. I love you! Don't leave me. _Don't leave me,_" he rambled with panic. His hands held her face desperately, pushing her hair back.

She smiled weakly at him, but her head rolled forward, and her arms sagged. "Thank you," she breathed, "I…"

Rowan saw the last breath leave Marie's lips. Belby took Marie's face with trembling hands and cradled her against him. His tears flowed freely, and his breath came in heaving gasps. His entire body shook as he held her, and the wailing sob that left him seemed to hold all the tears in thew world.

As Rowan felt herself being sucked out of the memory, the white field of flowers glowed ethereally. Rowan noted them with numbed awe – _Bakony Lunar Flowers._

* * *

><p>Finally, Rowan found herself in an ornate room filled with red cedar furniture and noted with shock that it was her father's old Ministry office. She gazed around it and took in the familiarity of it all. She looked to the desk and saw her father – hair slightly darker, but still impeccably dressed and handsome – and Belby seated across from him, looking tired and broken.<p>

"I'm sorry, Belby, but this might be out of my hands," Richard said seriously. "Transporting a werewolf body across international borders is serious business. I'm amazed you were able to get her there to begin with," he said gravely.

Belby stared at his hands but said nothing. Richard assessed the man across from him, and she could see the thoughts racing through his head.

"Please," Belby whispered. It frightened her – she had _never_ heard her master plead for anything, not like this. "I'll do anything. Just let me bring her home," he begged quietly.

Richard sighed and assessed the man across from him, twirling a pen in his hands. Rowan saw his eyebrows furrow in thought.

"What do you plan on doing with her body if you bring her back?" he asked.

Belby looked up at him then averted his gaze again and shifted. "She said she wanted to be cremated and then have her ashes released into the wind... in the north where she was born," he responded softly. "I just..." He bowed his head. "I just want to bring her home."

Richard nodded but continued to look at Belby in the same concentrated way. Belby kept his gaze averted. They sat in silence for a good amount of time, and Rowan wondered vaguely if the memory would end like this.

"Fine," Richard said. Belby's head shot up with wide eyes, daring not to believe it. "I can't make any guarantees, but I have a few Hungarian connections I can call. I'll see what I can do," he said gruffly.

Belby shot to his feet and grabbed Richard's hand, shaking it jerkily. "Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Delacroix! I am eternally in your debt! Thank you," he said, his voice trembling. Rowan saw his eyes were bright with tears.

Richard shifted uncomfortably at the other man's display of emotion and pulled his hand awkwardly from the handshake. Rowan watched her father with gratitude and adoration as she was pulled from the memory and felt herself spinning and flying.

* * *

><p>She once again found herself in Dumbledore's office and was about to run to the staircase to find the Headmaster and Remus when she realized the older wizard was already sitting at his desk.<p>

"Professor," she called. "I'm done with the Pensieve. I…" she trailed off. Dumbledore hadn't looked at her once and was reading over a letter in his hands.

"Professor!" she called again, but he didn't respond. Just as she was about to open her mouth again, there was a slamming of a door and the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned, expecting to see Remus, but gaped disbelievingly. Instead of Remus, she saw Belby quickly approaching the desk. She was still in a memory.

He wore the same dark wine-colored robes that he'd been in the evening they'd met in November of her Seventh Year. After seeing him so young in his previous memories, he suddenly looked very tired, very angry. His face wore the heavy scowl that she'd equated with his presence for so long, but now it seemed very foreign and odd.

"Well, I'm here, Dumbledore," he growled at the Headmaster. He assessed the older man coolly. The harshness of his voice made her flinch. "Though I'm not quite sure why. Do you really expect me to like this girl?" He glowered, still standing in front of Dumbledore's desk.

The bearded wizard placed the letter down on his desk and smiled up at Belby. "Rowan, you mean?" he corrected kindly. Belby made no sign of recognition but continued to glare. "She's an interesting girl, don't you think? Are you really not going to meet her when she specifically sought you out?" he asked slowly.

Belby snorted. "She's a fool!" he declared defiantly. "That stupid girl is going to get herself hurt and risk her entire livelihood for _this?_ Is she mad?" he ranted.

Dumbledore nodded his head and took in his friend's words. "Do you think her reasons are really so far from yours?" he asked quietly. "I think you're afraid because you might see too much of yourself in her," he suggested wisely.

"Of course I am!" Belby exclaimed. Fear flashed across his face for a brief moment. "How can I let someone like her… She's so young! I can't… What if something were to happen to her under my care? I can't have her well-being on my conscience! I will _not_ take responsibility for her!" he shouted. His eyes were looking frantically all over the room, as if searching for some answers.

"She's not Marie, Damocles," Dumbledore said.

Belby looked at him with wide-eyes. They were full of fear.

"She's not Marie," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Rowan knows what she is getting herself into, and if there is anyone who can assist you in your work, it is she," he said confidently but softly. Damocles looked lost, grieving. Dumbledore gazed at him in thought before continuing.

Rowan's heart was filled with shame. Had she known what she was getting herself into, truly? She'd thought she could handle it. Remus had warned her. Belby had warned her. He was terrified for her from the moment Dumbledore spoke her name to the man, and yet in the end, he'd been the one to pay the price for their research. Had the Death Eaters been looking for her there at the apothecary? She wanted to fall to this Belby's feet and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him that she wasn't worth it.

"How about this – give her the rest of the year to prove herself. Set a high bar. Make her continue to research for you and set a standard for her N.E.W.T.s. I'm almost certain that she will rise to the challenge, and it will help give you some peace of mind regarding her abilities and conviction if she passes your test," he suggested.

Damocles considered the older man's words with a dark grimace. The lines in his face seemed much heavier.

"Fine," he finally breathed. "Fine, I will meet with her, but I'll make absolutely no promises. Just watch – after talking to me _once,_ she'll rethink even potion making," he said definitively, bitterly.

Dumbledore smiled, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. That little spark seemed to grab Rowan. Her limbs froze, and then they were gone. Belby and Dumbledore were very still, unmoving and gray. Suddenly, Rowan felt herself flying backward, soaring. The scene in front of her seemed to pull away in an instant. She lost her footing and couldn't find the ground. She was going back.

* * *

><p>"Rowan! <em>Rowan!<em>"

Firm hands shook her awake, and she looked up to see Remus and Albus Dumbledore staring down at her. Remus' face was full of panic. She wanted to reach up and touch him. She looked around her blearily and realized she'd collapsed against the Pensieve, now sitting on the floor and propped up against the basin's cabinet.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, still in a daze.

Remus frowned. "We left you here about half an hour ago. When we came back, you'd collapsed," he said.

She frowned. Thirty minutes? It felt like she'd been gone for days. She reached up to her face and felt wetness there. Had she been crying?

Dumbledore smiled, and responded as if reading her mind. "One's sense of time within a memory is much different from the pace of time outside of it. I'm sure what felt to us like a matter of minutes was probably a great amount of time to you," he said knowingly.

Rowan felt her lips twitch at the Headmaster's words, and she stood slowly, using Remus' arm for support.

"Did you get the answers you needed?" the old wizard asked.

Rowan thought for a moment. "Yeah," she said softly, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had received more answers than she'd even been searching for. "Yeah, I did," she said firmly.

He smiled softly at her, and as they left the castle, Rowan looked back up towards the Headmaster's Tower and wondered how one person could know so much.

* * *

><p>When they Apparated back to St. Mungo's the sun had begun to set. As they entered the hospital, they returned immediately to Belby's room. However, he wasn't there, and Rowan suddenly found herself facing a flustered Gideon Prewett instead, who had been pacing the room anxiously and alone. Dread filled her.<p>

"Rowan," he breathed. His face was pale, and his chin trembled. She knew already what he was going to say.

"He's gone, isn't he?" she whispered.

Gideon's mouth twisted, and he nodded sadly. "I'm so sorry," he said sadly.

Rowan just nodded slowly. She felt Remus squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back. She looked up at him in a daze and saw him gazing down at her, fire in his eyes. She suddenly felt so tired, so exhausted. She moved towards him and leaned into his chest. His arms rose instinctively to hold her. She thought of Damocles Belby and the way he'd held Marie Acina against him in the mountainous forests of Hungary. She remembered how the delicate woman had looked up at the full moon with wonder. Her eyes had looked so much like the glowing field of flowers.


	19. Of Finding Courage in the Darkness

**A/N**: A little bit of Rowan, a little bit of Peter. A little bit of mourning and a little bit of happiness. This might be one of my favorite chapter so far, though I can't figure out why.

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you and to our favorite fictional couple. Know what would be the perfect V-Day gift for me? **A REVIEW!**

Also, have you watched the new season of House of Cards on Netflix. I just started. Kevin Spacey gives me shivers. I love the ruthless pragmatist.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19: Of Finding Courage in the Darkness<strong>

They didn't hold a funeral service for Damocles Belby. He had only his estranged brother and very few friends, and Rowan imagined that he wouldn't have wanted one anyway. She had his body cremated and took his remains to the small northern town where Rowan had found that Marie Acina was born in. She and Remus stood on a high hill in the cold February morning and released her master's ashes into a strong wind, praying that he would find Marie there.

She also took it upon herself to settle Belby's legal affairs. She and her father sat down with a law official to go over the deeds to his will and was shocked to find that he had left nearly all of his monetary estate to Remus. Remus, who had stayed by her side almost constantly since the fire, was flabbergasted and confused. The two men had interacted only a handful of times, and those interactions had been stiff, at best. Though he certainly wasn't a rich man, Rowan realized that supporting Remus even with the little money he had was probably Belby's own way of making up for the hurt he'd committed against his beloved Marie.

Remus had initially refused all of the money, horrified and ashamed that the man had left him anything when he barely knew him, but Rowan had insisted that it was what Belby wanted. He begrudgingly accepted it after seeing the earnestness in Rowan's eyes, but she knew he was still very displeased with it. She had to admit to herself that the idea that Remus had some money to fall back onto relieved her greatly, though she would never tell him that out loud.

As for the shop, lab, and all of his personal belongings, he left everything to Rowan. She went through his flat after, feeling uncomfortable and invasive, but found that he truly owned very little. He lived almost monastically in a simple apartment with stark furniture and a single photo of Marie by his bedside. The only thing of real value that he had passed onto her was his extensive library on potion making and lycanthropy. She wondered what his home had looked like when Marie had been alive.

Rowan returned to the apothecary a few days after settling Belby's affairs to see the full extent of the damage done. The entire shop was blackened and burnt, and all of the glass bottles that had lined the shelves were either melted or shattered. The stairs leading down to the basement were in burnt shambles, so she couldn't even enter the basement, but she knew she wouldn't find anything worth saving down there anyway. Alexander's body had been burnt completely to ashes, and Rowan wondered sadly if perhaps the bird had joined Belby in the afterlife.

But still, his apartment and the property were hers. She decided to put the apartment up for rent but remained unsure as to what to do with the shop. Though the insurance policy would cover many of the costs that she'd have to pay to fix it, the thought of entering that shop again without her master in it sent a sharp pang of guilt and grief through her. She decided to leave it for the time being while she took the time to mourn.

In the wake of the deaths of so many of her loved ones, Rowan was left reeling. She had lost several comrades, a mother figure, and now her mentor. She sat in her apartment alone for a week after settling everything to consider her next steps.

Now that Belby was gone, she no longer had a job. The box that Fabian had been able to save from the lab had, by some miracle, contained most of the more critical notes and information that they'd discovered, but most of her work was gone. She wasn't a licensed Potions Master and no longer had a teacher. The majority of what she'd been working towards had burned in the fire along with her mentor, and though she knew she could recreate what they'd done, it would require time and energy that she wasn't sure she could muster anymore.

She knew logically that she didn't _have_ to work. Her family was wealthy enough to support her comfortably until the day she died, but the lack of purpose left her feeling empty, and the promise that she'd made to Remus all those years ago still resonated freshly in her heart. She needed to do something, to be able to work with her hands, but she didn't know where to start. Where would she even find the space to begin researching again? Could she do it alone? She knew this would be the ideal time to dedicate herself to the Order, but after considering everything the war had taken from her already, she suddenly felt very bitter.

For days, Rowan considered the memories that Belby had shown her and why he'd chosen to give them to her. She supposed they explained the reasons that she'd questioned for so long, of why he'd dedicated his life to finding a cure for such a condition, and she was honored and moved that he'd use his last moments to give her such precious memories. And they were _so_ precious, something to be polished and cherished. She wondered if the day would ever come when she would feel the need to share her memories of Remus with someone else.

But one thing she couldn't wrap her head around was why Belby and Marie had been in the mountains of Hungary, of all places, the night she'd died. She remembered the broken white flowers scattered by their feet in that desolate hut and the glowing field. Had he been there thinking that they could heal her? They had never used Bakony Lunar Flowers in their research, in any of their potions – had he found them inconclusive? There was very little research done on them surprisingly – she would've thought that witches and wizards would jump at the chance to study such beautiful plants. She couldn't shake the image from her mind. She desperately wanted to see the field of light, to watch the blossoms glow with her own eyes.

Rowan looked out of the window and saw that the snow had finally begun to melt. Everything looked very wet and dull, and she thought of Damocles Belby's gray eyes as his silvery memories slipped from them.

* * *

><p>Rowan looked about her anxiously. The Marauders had dragged her out for the night for drinks, as they'd all been very worried about her. She was very grateful for her friends' concern, but it still irked her to be surrounded by so much noise when the voices in her head were already so loud. She swirled the glass of firewhiskey in her hand but didn't drink much from it. The ice had begun to melt, diluting the liquid to a light amber. It was such a warm color.<p>

The boys had taken it upon themselves to act as normally as possible, and Rowan could almost believe that they were just out for any regular night at the pub. Mina was telling a story about how mad Moody had gotten at Sirius earlier that week for completely disrupting a basic drill by tripping over his robes and tearing down the entire Auror training camp, and the boys were laughing maniacally at him. Even Remus looked at ease, and Rowan watched him fondly with a bittersweet feeling.

He had devotedly stayed by her side throughout the entire ordeal, even when she'd withdrawn into her cave to consider her options. He didn't push her to talk to him but came and went quietly, making sure that she ate and took care of herself. He often chose to just sit with her in the silence, and she appreciated his patience with her. She remembered dully that he still had a key to her flat and wondered if she should ask for it back. Would it be right after all that he'd done for her?

But she knew that she couldn't ask for it back, even if it was inappropriate for her ex-boyfriend to still have free access to her space. She still had his key as well, after all. Even if their relationship was over - even though life's cruel circumstances wouldn't allow them to be together - she knew that the gravity of their experiences would always keep them tied to each other. She was beginning to come to terms with the fact that they would continue this strange dance, probably forever. It was slightly comforting to know that he'd always be there, and yet the dull ache remained.

As she watched him laugh along with their friends, she found it hard to imagine how he could've been so cold just a month before. There were no indications of the darkness that she'd seen in him, and she wondered if it were perhaps all a dream. He was so warm, so kind again. How could she have ever thought him cold?

The tension that had existed between him and the Order members still remained, however, and she'd felt extremely uncomfortable in the few occasions that they'd run into their comrades together. And though he and their friends had seemingly reconciled, she could still see the uneasy glances they'd shoot his way occasionally. It made her chest constrict with anxiety. Were those dark thoughts still there, bubbling beneath the surface? Were they afraid of him?

Lily and Mina stood to use the powder room, and Rowan took the opportunity to go outside for a moment. She needed some air.

* * *

><p>As she sat outside in the cold, she swirled her drink in her hands. She saw the white light above her, a waning half moon. She held her glass up to it and let the light shine through, and she thought again about the glowing flowers in Belby's memory.<p>

Suddenly, she heard the door of the pub swing open, the loud volume from inside magnifying for a moment before fading away as the door closed. She looked up expecting to see Remus with his concerned face but instead saw Peter. He looked just as confused as she was to be out there.

"Hey, Winnie," he said nervously. "Do you mind if I sit with you a bit? It's pretty loud in there," he said.

She smiled gently and scooted over to offer more of the bench to him. He sat down with a sigh and fidgeted nervously. Rowan smiled knowingly at him and marveled at how he could still be so awkward around her after knowing her for so long.

"Pete, relax. I thought I was supposed to be the anxious one tonight," she teased warmly.

He looked up at her and blushed slightly but smiled sheepishly. She smiled back – he was such a nice boy. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Rowan took a deep breath. "I don't know, honestly," she said slowly. "I'm okay, I guess. I just don't really know what to do with myself right now, you know?" she breathed, staring up at the sky. It seemed endless, and she felt very small.

Peter nodded and assessed her quietly. "Do you think you'll be coming back to the Order soon?" he inquired.

Rowan frowned and looked down at her drink. It looked so different against the dark color of her trousers compared to the light of the sky.

"Yeah," she said softly, sadly. "I don't want to, but I have to," she admitted softly.

Peter's face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Rowan looked over at him. His beady eyes were looking at her with so much concern, and she realized how little she knew about him. He was always such a nervous boy and was still a nervous man. In all the years she'd known him, she had spoken to him very little compared to the rest of the group. He was a couple of inches taller than her, but he seemed very small for some reason.

She smiled sadly. "I just have to," she replied. "I'm really scared," she admitted. His eyes widened at her confession. "I hate it, but after how far I've come, I wouldn't be able to look at myself if I turned back now, you know? I feel like it'd be an insult to Edgar and Belby."

"You're scared?" he asked, disbelievingly.

She smiled wryly at him. "Of course, I'm scared," she said matter-of-factly. "I think everyone is. My arm hurts all the time still. I'm fucking _terrified_ of going out and fighting again." Her lip trembled, and Peter focused on the small movement with fear in his eyes.

"But I have to do it," she whispered. Peter thought that it was more to herself than to him, and she'd never seemed so human, so delicate before. He'd always seen her as a strong wind, a force of unwavering conviction. "I have to. I'll never be able to face my parents or any of you if I quit now, right?" she said with forced determination.

She turned and smiled at him, the old spark that he knew in her flickering dimly, but still there.

"I'm scared too," he admitted. Her gaze softened at him. "I want to quit all the time, but I have no idea how," he whispered. He couldn't believe that he was confessing this to her. Wouldn't she be ashamed of him? She'd just said that she would keep fighting after all that she'd been through, and yet he was telling her how cowardly he was! What was wrong with him?

Rowan smiled gently, and he felt like her light was spilling into his throat, smothering him. "It's hard," she whispered. "Our friends are so brave, and it's hard to put up a front and act like you feel the same way," she said. His eyes widened in awe.

"But you're braver than you think," she said fiercely, and the fire was back in her eyes. The heat overwhelmed him. He realized dimly that he was barely breathing. "You've kept fighting even though you're scared. Isn't that proof enough that you have more courage than you give yourself credit for?" she asked fervently.

Peter was overcome. She was gazing at him with such a burning fire. No one had ever looked at him that way – not Maria, not his mother, not his mates. He understood suddenly why Remus always came back to her no matter how many times he'd pushed her away – he would go to the ends of the earth to have someone look at him like that again. He wanted to tell her that she was brave too, that she _made_ him feel brave.

But then the door swung open again, and they both jerked up, peering over to the entrance. Remus was standing there looking at them with a confused frown. Peter looked back at Rowan and saw that burning look in her eyes again, but it wasn't focused at him – it was fixed on Remus. He was startled by the envy that sprang to his throat.

Remus walked over to them, and as he approached, Rowan smiled gently at him. It was different from the way she had looked at Peter, and he saw a yearning there that made his chest ache.

"It's cold out here. You two will get sick if you don't come back inside soon," he said warmly. He held his hand out, and Rowan took it gently, smiling up at her former boyfriend as she stood. Peter felt warm just watching them and wondered at how they could stand to be apart when they obviously still loved each other. He felt a strange sadness at the thought.

But then Rowan's gaze was back on him, and he felt his face redden at the bright grin that was stretched across her lips.

"Ready?" she asked happily. Her light seemed to magnify in Remus' presence.

He nodded slowly and stood, following them inside. He saw Remus' hand hover over her waist as they moved back to the table, not touching her but clearly marking that she was his. Peter watched Remus' face as he looked at her when she wasn't paying attention and was struck by the hunger there. They suddenly seemed much more beautiful than Mina and Sirius had ever been. He had to look away, afraid that if he stared too long, he would be blinded by their light.


	20. Of Knowing One's Place

**A/N**: Hi everyone, I'm going to be slowing down with the updates. I realized I'm putting too much effort into writing this silly thing, just objectively. I'm going to take the time to reevaluate where I'm going with the narrative, and to be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about some of the chapters I've already posted. While I'm away, please consider shooting me a PM or something [I've given up on the reviews...] if you have any constructive criticism as to how you think the story could improve, etc. Thanks again for following along!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thanks for the kind words, as always! Remus and Rowan never explicitly said, "We should break up," but it's just kind of a silent understanding between them that being together has been hurtful for the both of them. Sorry if I didn't make that really clear.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20: Of Knowing One's Place<strong>

While she tried to figure out her next steps regarding her work with Belby, Rowan returned to the Order of the Phoenix. Her comrades were all delighted to see her, and Molly even insisted on having a small welcome back celebration to commemorate her recovery. The thought of a party frightened her slightly, but at the eagerness on the older woman's face, she found that she couldn't say no.

After the fire, the Death Eaters had become quiet, and the Order took the opportunity to enjoy the moment as best as they could. If they'd learned anything over the past dark months, it was that they had to cherish the peaceful times the best they could. Rowan seemed to represent that for all of them.

Remus had retained his habit of hovering, and Rowan was unsure as to how to feel about it. She appreciated how much he cared, but it seemed that his protectiveness hadn't lessened at all since they'd broken up. In fact, after Belby's death, it had only increased. But he didn't shoot her the same starved looks as before, and she didn't know if the ache she felt was for him or the memory of their time together. They'd returned to a comfortable friendship, though unconventional, and she wondered idly if she'd be able to stand seeing him with another woman. She knew the answer would probably be no, but it amused her slightly to entertain the idea.

The "small" gathering that Molly had planned instead ended up being quite a party. As Rowan sat on the couch in the Headquarters living room, she thought to herself a bit sourly that she really should have expected it, considering her friends. Sirius and James had taken it upon themselves to make Rowan know how thrilled they were to have her back and recovered as loudly as possible, and though she really appreciated how much they cared about her, she was quickly growing overwhelmed. She spent the great majority of the party subdued, talking quietly with Lily, Mina, and Alice Longbottom in the corner.

But she had to admit that the night was entertaining. Sirius and James had enchanted the various sweets that Molly had baked so that they danced around the edges of the room in a floating line. It reminded Rowan of a Muggle film that she'd once seen with James as children. Fabian and Gideon Prewett had even performed a strange sort of jig together for the entertainment of the group, and Rowan laughed and clapped at the ludicrous dynamic the two shared. She imagined that they could make quite a lot of money if they went into comedy.

Throughout the night, her various comrades approached her to tell her how happy they were to have her back. She was overwhelmed by the sudden attention. Kingsley warmly and elegantly told her that her light had been sorely missed, and Dedalus Diggle nodded fervently, showering her with praise and throwing around melodramatic words like "warrior" and "survivor." She hadn't felt herself blush so much since her school days. She had no idea that they'd felt so strongly about her being there, and she was incredibly humbled by the efforts they'd put forth to let her know it. She was suddenly ashamed of how afraid she had been to return and wanted to apologize to all of them for her cowardly thoughts.

As the party died down, she looked around the room at her friends and listed all the ways she was grateful. Even in the midst of war, she had found such a strong group of allies – how many people were fortunate enough to say the same? Even if there was a traitor amongst them, how could she feel bitter when there were so many more who were loyal?

Rowan's gaze fell upon Remus, who was speaking quietly with Fabian in the corner. She was relieved to see that he'd relaxed for the night, and the other Order members seemed to feel the same. She thought of all the ways he'd supported her throughout everything and didn't know how to feel about him anymore. It'd be an understatement to say that he was her best friend, but they weren't lovers either. She reasoned that most wouldn't go to such lengths to protect their former lovers, but then again, this was Remus – wouldn't he have done it for any of their friends, not just her?

His eyes suddenly met hers from across the room, and the surprised look on his face was quickly replaced with a warm smile. She wanted to wrap herself in it and sleep until spring came. The realization of how much she still loved him startled her, but she felt no grief, no loneliness. She somehow knew that things would always be this way. She smiled back. How could she have ever thought him cold?

* * *

><p>The next week, Rowan sat in the kitchen at the Order Headquarters after smoothly completing a mission with Arthur Weasley and Emmeline Vance. The three were silent, lost in their own thoughts. The air tasted stale. They had met up with an informant, an old shopkeeper from Knockturn Alley, who had witnessed a friendly and eerie exchange between known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy and Order member Isaiah Jones.<p>

Rowan didn't know what to think. They all knew there had been a traitor within the Order, but the idea of Isaiah feeding the Death Eaters critical information was nauseating.

She realized suddenly that she barely knew the man. He had never been a vocal member, never outspoken or aggressive, and always going along with whatever plans the rest of the Order created without opinion. He had joined alone, without being pushed by friends or family, and Rowan suddenly wondered if this had been his intent all along. Had he been the one responsible for their ambush and Edgar Bones' murder? What else had he given away? Her stomach felt heavy with dread, and her throat tightened.

What would this mean for the Order? Were there more traitors among them? A cold trickle of fear crept up her spine. Despite not knowing him well, she had trusted him, never questioned his loyalties. She thought of Dorcas and Edgar - had they died because of their allies' blindness?

Her arm ached. Was he the one responsible for both fires – for hers and Remus' suffering?

"You know, I'm sort of relieved," Emmeline said suddenly.

Rowan and Arthur looked up at her, both confused. She was smiling weakly at the mug in her hands.

"It sort of makes sense, doesn't it?" she said softly. Her face held a humorless, bitter smile. "He never really spoke to anyone, never got to know any of us. Why hadn't we seen it before?"

Rowan grimaced. The older woman had voiced her own thoughts exactly – why _hadn't_ they seen it? Were they so desperate for members that they'd completely overlooked all of the motivations behind his joining? What else had they overlooked?

"And at least now, we know it's not Lupin," Emmeline said flippantly.

Rowan's head jerked up and stared at the woman in front of her. Her heart had stopped. She couldn't possibly have just said that, could she?

Emmeline realized her mistake as soon as she had said it. Her face was pale with mortification and gaped at Rowan, horrified at the words that had slipped from her mouth.

"Rowan, I-" she started, but Rowan interrupted her.

"You thought it was Remus?" she asked, making no effort to hide her disdain. She couldn't move her arms.

Arthur stared at the two women, also pale and horrified. "Rowan, you have to understand," he whispered. "Remus' behavior for a long time was very strange, and he's been cold to everyone over the past six months or so. It was only natural that we'd begin to suspect him," he explained carefully.

Rowan stared at him, disbelieving. "_'We_'_?"_ she exclaimed. They flinched at her shrill tone. "How many of you suspected him? When were you planning on telling me this?"

They looked down in shame, neither meeting her eye. A scream threatened to erupt from her chest. How could they even _think_ of Remus as suspicious?

"_What is wrong with you people?_"she accused angrily. Her rage was rising to her throat, and she felt the heat in her face. "I'm the one who got hurt from all of this! How could you even think that he could betray us? Betray me?"

Emmeline looked up at her again, shame still written across her face. "Rowan, you have to understand. He was so angry after the accident. We thought that maybe he hadn't meant for you to get hurt, that there was a mistake and he was angry that you'd been injured in the crossfire. We know he'd never want to hurt you," she explained quickly. "And then he was so angry towards all of us. It was like he blamed us for what happened!"

"_But you thought he'd want to hurt all of you!"_ Rowan exclaimed furiously. Arthur and Emmeline flinched and looked away again.

"I can't believe you," Rowan said softly, angrily. Realization hit her.

"It's because he's a werewolf, isn't it?" she accused. Her teammates didn't meet her eye. Fury swelled in her chest. "You thought that because Voldemort has werewolf supporters that Remus would be the obvious traitor!"

She looked at them frantically. They still had their gazes averted in shame. "You call yourselves his friends, but you look down on him just like everyone else!" she shouted angrily. She stood abruptly, rattling the table noisily. "I can't believe I came back here thinking that this Order was filled with honorable people, but you're nothing but ignorant cowards!" she screamed, grabbing her coat from her chair and slamming it into the table. She stormed from the room. They didn't try to stop her.

* * *

><p>Rowan walked and walked through London alone, not knowing where she was going. She thought vaguely that she was breaking every one of the Order's rules about walking alone at night, but she was so angry, so furious at the Order that she spitefully wanted to disobey every rule, every piece of guidance that had been laid out for them. She almost <em>wanted<em> to get hurt, to make them regret ever suspecting Remus. Her legs moved quickly, forcefully. Her blood rushed through her veins with fire and flames, and she wanted to desperately burn something.

How many of them had suspected him and for how long? Did their friends suspect him too? She thought back to the shifty looks and expressions on their faces after she'd been injured and realized that they'd known all along. How long had they whispered behind her back, pitied her for not knowing? She suddenly was filled with spiteful rage and wanted to hurt her own friends for their lack of faith in Remus, in her. Hadn't they in fact betrayed _him_ by thinking him the traitor? She'd never known such violence in her heart and realized that this must have been what Remus had felt as he'd watched her burn.

But she kept walking, storming through the empty city until she came to Remus' street. She looked up to the sky. The moon was waxing, nearly full. Her heart ached – another cycle, another full moon, another month that she had still been unable to help him. Would she ever be able to free him from this terrible condition and all that came with it? Her chest constricted with despair.

She pulled out her keys and carefully fingered through them until she found his. Would he be home? She felt a pull of determination as she entered the building and walked up the stairs to his flat. As she stood outside of his door, she was pained by all that laid between them.

* * *

><p>When Remus answered the door, he was shocked to see Rowan standing there, looking at him as if she hadn't seen him in months. Rowan's eyes searched over his frantically, and the innocent surprise, the twist of concern on his lips made her want to press her own against them. She hadn't wanted to kiss him so badly in so long, and she was overwhelmed with the need to show him how wonderful he was, how much she loved him.<p>

"Rowan," he frowned but stood aside to let her in. She walked in dazedly. "What're you doing here? I thought I told you to let me know when you were done at Headquarters," he scolded seriously.

Rowan stood in the middle of his apartment and gazed around, confused. Her coat remained on her shoulders, and she felt strangely small. She didn't say anything, and he was beginning to worry.

"Winnie," he called out to her, approaching her slowly. Rowan looked up at him with that same expression of frustration. "Winnie, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked softly, placing his hands on her arms and lowering himself slightly to look at her better.

As he looked at her with the rising concern in his eyes, she realized that she couldn't tell him what Emmeline and Arthur had said. He was so good – how could she tell him that their friends, their _best_ friends, had mistrusted him? She'd never felt so betrayed, so hurt, and she hadn't even been the one they'd suspected.

Despair filled her lungs. _He wasn't hers anymore_. Did she have the right to feel this pain for him, to try to bear his burden? No matter how much she wanted him, how much she loved him, she knew that she couldn't hold him to her. His condition wasn't just a physical burden - it had become such a critical part of him, something ingrained into his very spirit. Even if she were to cure him of it eventually, would he ever really be free of the monster that lived inside of him? Would ever fully be hers?

It didn't make sense to feel this much grief after being apart for so many months. Had it just never sunk in before now, that they weren't together anymore? She saw the distance between them as they stood together in his apartment and felt the weight of it heavily on her heart. Even with his hands on her, she felt so far from him. She lifted her hands to her face and felt her wet tears on her fingertips. She hadn't even realized that she'd been crying.

"Rowan, please, you're scaring me. What happened?" he asked, panic rising in his voice. He moved a hand to her face and thumbed away some of the tears there.

The gentleness of the gesture constricted her throat, and she held herself from back grasping it, from leaning into the warmth of his touch. This was as far as she could go.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what's come over me. I just really needed to see you."

The worry didn't leave Remus' face. His eyes searched hers for some sort of answer besides what she'd give him, and she kept her gaze forward, unwavering.

Finally, he pulled her towards him gently and held her against him. Her body went limp. She was too tired to fight him. Her head laid against his chest, and she heard the steady rhythm of his heart. She closed her eyes and tried to match her own to it.


	21. Of a Werewolf's Happiness

**A/N**: I'm astounded by the amount of feedback I've gotten over the past few days. Seriously, I simply mention that I'd been reconsidering some of the chapters, and I suddenly get a flood of reviews! I feel like something is wrong about all of this. But still, I guess I should be grateful that I have so many faithful readers. Thanks for all the support, even if it was based on a misunderstanding haha. I'm still not going to be updating so often though. Sorry!

**Pandafulprincess, Lucifel Fenrir, and tiffy:** Thanks so much for the kind words! I'm really happy it's been a page-turner for you guys. I'm also happy that the sequel has been enough for you to keep going with it. I really appreciate the warm reviews, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

This isn't a very eventful chapter, but we finally get a look into Remus' head. He's such a good guy.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21: Of a Werewolf's Happiness<strong>

Remus woke slowly, blearily. Even without opening his eyes, he felt the warm body pressed against him and simply knew that it was Rowan. He pulled her in tightly. He still didn't understand what had brought her there and knew deep down that it had been a mistake to insist that she stay the night, but he wanted to cherish every moment he had with her. He wanted to pretend that she was still his.

It had taken him weeks to understand the implications of his leaving her in the hospital, crying alone. He had been lost in a dark haze of anger and hatred. He barely remembered any of it. Even as he'd sat with by her bed with his head full of her, he hadn't really seen her in front of him. Her voice was like a distant echo.

She had been a ghost – or perhaps he had been the ghost – and all he could think about was finding the traitor within their midst. No person had been beyond his scrutiny, even their closest friends. When he'd smelled the burnt flesh, heard her terrible screams, his darkness had roared and thrashed, tearing at him from the inside, and for the first time in his life, he relished it, _wanted_ to unleash the monster in him to reap revenge on anyone who came near her. He wanted to rip apart every Death Eater, every person who had ever laid eyes on her. As he looked at their comrades, he saw guilt in every single face and wanted to tear them all apart. He wanted them to all know the pain that she had suffered, to know that it was also _their_ fault for allowing her to be the sacrifice. Green fire burned everywhere.

But as the days turned to weeks, the anger became numb, and he realized that she was nowhere to be found. He hadn't found the traitor, and there was a deathly silence within him. Even the dark voice had gone cold, and he wondered if perhaps he had burned in that fire along with Edgar.

And then his mother died.

When he saw Rowan standing in St. Mungo's, she'd looked like a haunted doll, like a distant dream. She didn't meet his eyes, tears silently falling to the floor with head bent. He couldn't remember her voice. He wondered how long it had been since he'd seen her. She stood alone and frail. It didn't look right. Hadn't he always been by her side?

But he hadn't been there. He'd left her, been swallowed by his rage, consumed in the fire along with her skin. How long had it been since he'd seen his parents? His friends? Had he really left her to heal alone?

She'd been there all along, helping his sick mother and recovering slowly with her while he'd been in the dark, groping blindly for a sign of a traitor that he wasn't even sure existed anymore. He'd promised to protect her, to take care of his mother, but he'd abandoned them both in his search for the revenge that Rowan hadn't even wanted. Had his mother been lonely, afraid when she died? Did she know that he loved her, that she was more than he'd ever deserved?

He returned home with his father, searching around the house for any trace of Leanna, cherishing ever remnant of her. There was a broken teacup and small splatters of dried blood on the floor. The white bandages on Rowan's small feet burned into his mind. She had stood in that very kitchen earlier that day, clinging to his dying mother. Had she fallen? Was she in pain? He followed the bloody footprints through the halls and saw the ghost of Rowan's frail form struggling through the house. He could imagine her fear, taste her tears.

Remus stood in the kitchen among the broken ceramic. He didn't know for how long. The pieces were scattered across the floor, and though he knew he could fix it with a word, it seemed wrong, like a sign of disrespect to his mother. He almost wanted to leave them there to serve as a reminder of all the ways she'd suffered. He imagined his mother's small form standing in front of the counter and the sound of running water over clinking glass. He had looked at the back of her figure there his entire life, remembered the day he realized he was finally taller than her – she had cried happily – and he wished more than anything that he could see her there one more time. His throat tightened. He would never be able to hear her voice again.

Finally, he picked up the larger pieces and then gently swept up the tiny shards with his hands. He placed the shattered bits on a clean piece of paper and didn't have the heart to throw them away. He sat at the kitchen table with his mother's broken glass and the still-full cup that Rowan had drank from until his father pushed him up the stairs.

Sleep never came, however, and as he sat awake, he imagined that, at any moment, Leanna might knock on his door softly and scold him for not sleeping, as she always had in his nights of insomnia as a boy. He thought of her melodious voice, and the way she would cradle him after his monthly transformations as a boy. He laid in his bed, which felt much too small, too cold to be his, and he cried silently, wishing desperately that he could see her one last time.

When dawn broke, he began to hear the voices of his friends entering his home. How long had it been since he'd seen them? How could they come there after all that the terrible ways he'd treated them? He suddenly felt ashamed. His friends, who had accepted all of his worst qualities and weaknesses from the very first day at Hogwarts, had absorbed his coldness, his darkness, without so much as a complaint. How could he face them?

And then there was a knock, and he was terrified. He wanted to curl up in his bed and disappear. But he had no right to run away from them. He deserved to feel their anger, their resentment. He grit his teeth and opened the door.

But it hadn't been his father or Sirius or James. It was Rowan. He had just seen her the day before, but as she stood there, he saw her face for the first time in what seemed like years. The brightness of her eyes blinded him, and before he knew it, she was in his room, standing amongst his belongings. It felt so strange to have her there, but as they looked through his pictures, he realized that she had been there all along. The world suddenly came into focus, clear and bright, and he wondered how it could have taken him so long to see her there. How many times now had she stood by him quietly, waiting for him to notice her?

She held him as he cried, just like Leanna had all those years ago. His mother's funeral passed in a hazy blur, but he remembered the warmth of Rowan's body pressed against him that night. When she left the next morning, he mourned that while he'd finally woken from his walking nightmares, he'd paid the price of losing both of the most precious women in his life. Rowan had suffered too much by him, and he knew it was finally time to let her go.

Though he and the Marauders immediately picked up where they'd left off, he still couldn't shake the feelings of suspicion around the other Order members. He had caught a glimpse of Rowan's burns as she'd slipped on his shirt, and the sight of the clean bandages beneath her clothes was sobering. The image was again fresh in his mind, and as long as it remained there, he knew he wouldn't be able to truly rest until he knew she would never be hurt again.

He fell back into a mundane rhythm without any great sorrow or joy, but he was content. He and Rowan resumed their friendship surprisingly easily, and he thought fondly that his mother would have been happy for them. His judgment had slipped on Christmas Eve, and he'd kissed her, but he reasoned that they'd been drunk and that their secret would remain there in the dark. She hadn't seemed to mind, and he never brought it up again, but the dark voice within him howled distantly.

But when he and Fabian saw her silver wolf appear that evening in February, his blood ran cold, and he felt his own wolf bursting from his bones. Every fiber of his being screamed as he saw her run into the burning apothecary, and before Fabian could stop him, he'd ran after her, dragging her out kicking and screaming. It was a nightmare. He saw flashes of her burning flesh in his mind again, and no matter how much she beat at him and shouted for her master, he held steadfast and absorbed her blows, letting her punish his selfishness.

He still didn't know what had transpired within Belby's parting gift to her, but when she'd woken from the Pensieve's trance, there was an ache in her eyes that he'd never seen before. He spent the next couple of weeks coming and going from her apartment. She didn't move much, and at times, he thought that perhaps she was a ghost. He wanted to hold her, but he knew he had no right anymore – hadn't he given all of that up when he'd abandoned her the last time she'd grieved?

Her master had left him a decent amount of gold in his passing, and he still hated the thought of it. It sat in his bank vault untouched, and if it hadn't been for the precious place the deceased Potions Master held in Rowan's heart, he would have given it away. It seemed tainted, like a gift of pity – his stomach clenched bitterly at the thought. But Rowan had cried and held his hands tightly and told him that it was a final gesture of devotion to the old wizard's love. He found that he couldn't argue.

Rowan had bounced back though, as she always did, though her actions were more subdued, her voice a little less bright. He missed her spark desperately, and he was determined to be by her side, to ensure that it came back to her. He insisted on walking with her at night and even checked on her sometimes during the day. When he was away on missions for the Order, he ensured that one of the other Marauders was there for her, and through it all, he finally understood that while his morals and ethics might waver, she would always be his reason.

So when she'd appeared at his door the night before, wide-eyed and confused, he felt as if he had been dreaming. He couldn't understand what had brought her there, and he still hadn't the faintest idea. He looked at her as she slept and wondered what could have possibly happened for her to seek him out.

If it hadn't been for his insistence on seeing her, would he really see her at all? He grimaced at the thought. He knew she still loved him – was he actually hurting her by staying by her side? Should he try to distance himself, to allow them both time to move on?

His eyes then fell upon the scars on her arm, and he knew he couldn't possibly do that. The bandages were gone and the open wounds and scabs had healed over, but the redness remained, peaking out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. The color was bright and shining and screamed of painful memories. He thought of the way she'd always cherished his scars affectionately and thought bitterly that this was much darker. Hers was a crime, a brush with death and spite. The anger bristled in him again. This beautiful girl should never have known anything but the kindest of touches. Even if she grew to resent him, he couldn't leave her alone when there was still a war going on.

His dark thoughts were interrupted when he felt her shift against him. He looked down and saw her looking at his chest, eyebrows furrowed.

"Winnie, your gears are showing," he whispered. He was surprised at how easily and quickly it slipped from his lips.

She jerked in surprise and looked up at him, flustered, a light blush on her face. He couldn't help but smile, reminded of the times at Hogwarts before they'd started dating when he'd tease her mercilessly. She frowned at him but didn't say anything before moving away from him. He mourned the pressure of her body against his.

Her face melted into a sheepish smile, and he wanted to squeeze her again. But she shifted and sat up, and he quietly mourned the loss of her warmth.

She sat in silence for a while and just stared about the room. He watched her gaze wander slowly and admired the way the morning light reflected off her skin, how her hair fell about her. His heart tightened painfully. He couldn't just reach out and touch her anymore whenever he wanted, and he wanted to so _badly_.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning back to him. He felt his throat constrict at the gentle smile on her face.

"I frequently seem to be a mess around you, but you always take it in stride," she said, grinning lightly. He smiled softly back. "Sorry for taking up your bed – not a very good friend, am I?"

He laughed softly and sat up as well, ruffling her hair and moving out of the bed. He needed to put some distance between them before he did something stupid.

"Nonsense," he said genuinely, "You've always been a better friend than I deserve." He moved towards his sink and filled a glass of water, bringing it over to her.

Her face melted warmly as she took the glass from him, amber eyes shining in the yellow light, and he had to look away. It was as if she took the sun and magnified it – he might go blind if he gazed at her too long

"You deserve everything, Remus," she said fervently, and he had to consciously keep himself from kissing her.

She drank from the glass then stood, taking it over to his sink. He watched her figure and thought of how normal it all seemed to have her there again, as if they were still together.

"I should probably get going. I know you have to get to work and all," she said, turning back around and moving towards her clothes, which were laid over a chair.

He nodded dumbly, not really hearing her. He watched as she sorted out her clothing and then realized that she was looking at him with an embarrassed look on her face. _Shit_, he was staring!

He turned away from her, face burning, and moved to his wardrobe to pull out his own clothes for the day. He heard the shifting of cloth that said she was changing quickly. Once he heard her movement stop, he turned slowly to see her staring out the window longingly. He had noticed this habit and paired it with her moments of inner musings. He wondered what she had just decided.

But then she turned and smiled at him, and he was dazed.

She moved towards him quickly and hugged him fiercely. He stumbled slightly with surprise at the force of her embrace but then wrapped his arms around her tightly. She sighed and then slowly let go, looking up at him brightly. He wanted to kiss her.

"Better take a shower before work - you stink," she said cheekily.

He barked out a laugh and ruffled her hair. She was so bright - how he loved her! She squealed and ran away from him towards the door. Just as she was about to open it, she turned back at him and smiled again.

"Thanks again. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate it," she said warmly – _appreciate you._

He smiled. "I know," he said. She grinned one more time before running out the door. As he watched the door shut, he felt strangely light, and as he prepared for work, he noted happily that the monotony of his days had been lifted just slightly.


	22. Of the Coming Orange Spring

**A/N**: A little more of Peter, but not much.

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thanks, as always! I'll probably be updating every few days at most, but I'll definitely try to keep a steady rhythm.

**dearmaggie:** As always, your reviews are extremely thorough, thoughtful, and really meaningful - thank you so much. I felt really terrible killing off Belby since I loved his character, but yeah, he was always meant to pave the way for Rowan. I'm glad that Peter's character is growing on you. He's so difficult to flesh out - cowardice is a very hard trait to understand I think, especially when it's mixed with good intentions. As for Rowan and Remus, there's some lightness in this chapter. I'm throwing a wrench in there soon though, so I hope you find it interesting! Also, I totally love Wes Anderson films and am so pleased that you appreciate my profile image thing.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22: Of the Coming Orange Spring<strong>

Remus had insisted that Rowan spend the night in his flat after she showed up there in her strange panic, and she had tiredly consented. She pulled on the familiar t-shirt and sweatpants and was wrapped gently beneath his covers. He held her against him tightly throughout the night, and Rowan was strangely thankful for it because it meant that she wouldn't have to see his face, which filled her with guilt.

When she woke the next morning, he smiled warmly, and though it sent a dull ache through her, she was filled with a strange feeling of resolution. He wasn't hers – no, but she was still his, even if he didn't need or want her, and she was determined to be his greatest defender, whether it was in the face of their friends or enemies. As she left his apartment, a slow burning filled her stomach, and she knew she finally had the motivation to move forward.

She confronted the rest of the Marauders about it after, and they all accepted her anger and fury with guilty resignation. James had looked righteous with indignation – he had been the only one to not believe any suspicions of Remus, and Rowan felt fiercely proud of her childhood friend's loyalty.

"It would be the height of dishonor to suspect one's friends," he'd told her quietly, fervently, in their moments alone. She'd never felt closer to him.

They hadn't apologized to Remus though, and Rowan wasn't sure if it would be wise to tell him anyway. He didn't exactly need to know that his friends had suspected him – after all, what good would it do for him to know? He was already so on edge, so guilt-ridden with everything else that informing him of his best friends' disloyalty would only crush him. The last thing Rowan wanted was for him to lose all hope in the people he loved most.

Emmeline Vance and Arthur Weasley, however, apologized profusely to Rowan, and though she was unable to forgive them for the time being, she knew she'd move past it eventually. She tried to not let it affect the way that she worked with the Order, but many of their guilty looks told her that more than a few of them had suspected Remus as well. She appreciated the steady and objective Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody more than ever and insisted on only being teamed with them for the next few missions, which Dumbledore fortunately granted.

A few nights after their discovery of Isaiah Jones' treachery, the Aurors arrested the man. He'd fought furiously against them, but under the influence of Moody's most potent Veritaserum, the truth came spilling out. The ambush against them had been because of his doing, and he had been greatly rewarded for Edgar and Wisteria's deaths by the Dark Lord. Rowan, Remus, James, and Sirius had insisted on being present for his questioning, and when it all finally came into the light, Rowan's arm ached. The crazed smile on Jones' face as they pulled up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark haunted her for days.

But he hadn't been able to tell them anything about Belby's murder. Igor Karkaroff still refused to yield the name of the Death Eater who had burned down the apothecary, and Rowan was sure that if she were to meet him face to face, she might actually kill the man. She confided her dark feelings to James with fear, and he held her tightly, whispering that she was still a good person and that he would fight beside her and didn't she know how inspiring her light was to them all? She thought bitterly of how ironic it was that he spoke the same words that she had thought towards Remus when he had also been lost in his darkness.

The mystery of Belby's murderer remained, and though a deep part of Rowan roared with the need to reap revenge on his killer, she remained patient. One day, she would find the terrible man that left her mentor-less, and even if her darkness consumed her, he would know the pain that Damocles Belby had suffered tenfold.

* * *

><p>Rowan sat at her family's table with her parents and Alfred feeling quite anxious. Her parents had invited her home for dinner one night at the beginning of March, and Rowan had a terrible feeling in her gut. It wasn't often that Richard ate dinner at home with his family, and he'd been stiff and jerky all evening. She watched him from the corner of her eye with suspicion throughout dinner, and when Carole and Alfred stood from the table quietly, leaving Rowan and Richard alone, she knew he was going to give her bad news.<p>

"Karkaroff is pleading diplomatic immunity. The Bulgarians are trying to bring him home," he said darkly.

Rowan dropped her fork and stared at her father in cold disbelief.

"_What?_ He assisted in a murder! They can't just do that!" she cried indignantly. Her anger came surging forward, bursting from her chest. She wanted to kill that man, to bring him to his knees in pain. He deserved to live out his life in Azkaban – could it really end like this?

"They can," Richard said sullenly. "We're doing all we can to keep him here and get a conviction or at least get him to give us some names, but it isn't looking good. I don't know how long we'll be able to hold the Bulgarians off."

Rowan's hands clenched almost painfully. They trembled with fury. How could this be happening? How could the government allow this? Weren't they supposed to be bringing these evil men to justice?

"Isn't there anything you can do?" she asked desperately. Her eyes searched her father's face beseechingly.

Richard looked at his daughter with pity. "I don't know, Winnie, but I can promise that I'm trying as hard as I can," he said.

Rowan nodded but was filled with guilt. She gazed at her father, who suddenly looked very old and tired. Most men would have retired by his age, but he'd continued working, even in these dark days. She hadn't seen him much since Belby's passing, and Carole said that he'd been working almost constantly. She suddenly was filled with an overwhelming love for her father as she realized that he must have been fighting for Karkaroff's conviction this entire time.

She stood noisily and stumbled over to her father, who looked startled at her sudden movement, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders fiercely. He hesitantly placed his hands on her back and then held her tightly. She hadn't felt so close to him in years.

"I love you, Dad," she whispered.

His embrace tightened. "I love you too, Winnie," he said.

* * *

><p>Remus' twentieth birthday arrived, and the Marauders and company decided to take the time to celebrate together and appreciate the momentary peace. Rowan knew that they were still feeling guilty about suspecting their mate, but she appreciated their gesture all the same. After all that they'd gone through over the past year, Remus certainly deserved a bit of happiness and appreciation.<p>

Remus was surprised and confused by the sudden outpouring of affection from his friends, but he accepted it sheepishly all the same. Rowan saw the look of gratitude on his face and was reminded of the expression he so often wore in their earlier days at Hogwarts and was filled with happiness. She wondered, if given the chance, would she tell her awkward fourteen year-old self to move on before her feelings became too heavy? Would it have even changed anything?

They gathered in the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade like their old days in school and drank merrily. Lily and Mina had gotten him a chocolate cake, and James, Sirius, and Peter insisted on screeching what sounded like Belby's old augurey Alexander's unpleasant cries for food, though they insisted that it was a happy birthday song. It was a joyous night, one of the brightest they'd had in months, and Rowan couldn't remember being happier in a long time.

* * *

><p>Remus sat at the table with his friends and couldn't help but feel extremely grateful to be alive. Lily and Sirius were chatting animatedly about a new Muggle motorbike that Sirius had been eyeing while Rowan and James were attempting to teach Mina a game that they had played as kids involving the tabletop, their fingers, and a few Knuts. The brunette looked thoroughly frustrated, and the other two were laughing riotously at their friend's confusion, drumming on the table in a strange rhythm that no one else seemed to understand. Even Remus could see that the game didn't make much sense to anyone else but the two childhood friends.<p>

Peter was sitting next to him quietly, and he realized that he hadn't spoken much to him over the past few weeks. Peter had been rather withdrawn and quiet – at least, more so than usual. He observed him silently and noted that his gaze was fixed on Rowan and Mina. There was a strange expression there that he'd never seen on Peter's face before – was it longing?

He felt something stir in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. After all, this was Peter – honest, gentle Peter. He would never try to make a move on either woman.

"Hey, Wormy, what's up?" he asked, calling the other man from his daze.

Peter jumped slightly and turned to look at Remus, slight embarrassment on his face. Remus smiled warmly at him. _It's okay._ Peter blushed slightly but smiled back at his friend.

"Oh, sorry, Moony. I was lost in thought. I'm doing okay. How're you?" he asked.

"I'm all right. I just realized we haven't really caught up in a while. Anything exciting happen at work recently?" he asked curiously.

Remus had been surprised when Peter had told them about his job as a hex breaker at Gringotts, but the smaller man had seemed to enjoy his job very much and had demonstrated an unusual proclivity towards it. He would tell them stories about strange items and characters showing up at the bank, and they all marveled at the young man's surprising talent for storytelling and puzzle solving. Remus particularly enjoyed hearing about a strange box with teeth from Romania that sang siren songs, luring in its listeners and then biting their hands off as they reached in. Peter had to remove the teeth with an impressively complex incantation, and after, the box returned to normal, though a strange humming had continued from the disembodied teeth.

Peter's face lit up. "Yes!" he squeaked. "Someone actually brought in a large mirror the other day that she claims shows something different for each person that looks into it. She said she found it in some ancient ruins in Greece. I haven't been able to take a look at it yet, but it looks absolutely fascinating. I'm really excited to see what it does, though I might have to brush up on my Greek magical history first," he rambled happily.

Remus smiled broadly at his friend's enthusiasm. Peter had never shown much excitement for school as boys, and the sight of him with so much passion was endearing. He just hoped he could have as much luck in his profession.

"And what about in the dating department? Sirius says there's someone you're interested in," he said teasingly. "How'd you meet her?"

Peter blushed, and Remus thought for a moment that he stole a glance toward Mina and Rowan again, who were giggling over a secret joke with their heads huddled closely, but he must have imagined it. Peter smiled warmly.

"Yeah, she's actually the one who brought the mirror in. She's a treasure hunter, so I see her sometimes for work when she thinks that one of her finds has a curse or hex on it," he said bashfully. "I haven't known her for long though, so I'm not sure if I should ask her out yet."

Remus smiled. "Well, I hope it goes well. She'd be a fool to not say yes," he said genuinely.

Peter grinned.

* * *

><p>After saying goodbye to their friends with each Disapparating for their respective homes, Rowan and Remus walked leisurely down Rowan's street. The night had a few clouds, but the air felt light. Rowan breathed deeply and savored the cool breeze. It was still cold, but she could tell spring was coming. She hoped it would bring good things with it.<p>

"What're you thinking about?" Remus asked.

Rowan kept her gaze upward towards the sky. The moon was strangely orange, and she wondered if the glowing field in Hungary was reflecting the color back in response. She felt strangely calm.

"Just thinking about spring. I have a good feeling," she said languorously. "I think I'd like to start playing my violin again. It's been a long time."

Remus smiled brightly at her. "I'd like to hear you play if you decide to pick it up again," he said fondly.

She turned and smiled gently. She wanted to memorize the color of his eyes and the tone of their sheen in the night glow.

"Definitely," she said brightly.


	23. Of Heroes' Children

**A/N**: A lighter chapter. WEASLEYS!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1, snuffles95, tiffy, Rainbor123, missalex3030:** Thank you all for the kind words! Thank you thank you!

**misslak:** You changed your pen name! It really fucked with my head for a second haha. But anyway, I can't thank you enough for all of the reviews! Seriously, I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am for the feedback. I also noticed the lack of dialogue and I think it's been much more internal b/c the brooding nature of this story, but I'm hoping for a little more in that area soon as the action will be picking up. There's definitely more in this and the next chapter, but I'll keep your critiques in mind as I move forward. Thank you again!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23: Of Heroes' Children<strong>

Rowan stood in the kitchen of the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters with Molly Weasley, helping the red-haired woman wash dishes after completing a late night mission. It had gone smoothly, a simple protection mission for a Muggle-born witch's family as she moved them into hiding. They had been receiving more and more requests of the sort recently, as Muggle-borns began fearing more for their non-magical relatives with the increase in violence. Rowan had been relieved that the mission hadn't been for a high-profile figure again, as the memory of Edgar Bones and his family still burned into her memory, but she still felt accomplished for helping put someone else's mind at ease.

Rowan looked up at the clock on the wall – the sun would be rising at any moment. She then glanced over at Molly, who was still scrubbing furiously and wondered how she could stand waiting alone for Arthur night after night, knowing what danger he was in. They had five young adorable sons, all with flaming red hair. The most recent birth had been just the previous year – twins.

Every once in a while, Rowan, Lily, and Mina would help Molly with the boys when her mother Mrs. Prewett or the elder Mrs. Weasley were unavailable. Rowan would laugh at the young Weasley boys' strong affection towards Lily, joking that they saw her red hair and probably assumed she was an aunt or older sister. Mina didn't have any particular fondness for young children, but she came all the same, usually acting as disciplinarian to keep Rowan in line when she riled the boys up too much with her tricks and stories.

In their moments with the rowdy Weasley boys, Rowan saw the maternal instincts and longing looks in Lily's face and wondered if Lily and James would want to have children in the midst of war as well. They were all still so young – Rowan wasn't even twenty yet – but then again, Lily and James had decided to marry anyway. She would watch Lily carefully with her arms full with the twins Fred and George and think fondly that her friend would look quite natural with a baby of her own. Would it also have red hair or a dark messy mop like James? She imagined their children would be quite brilliant, and James would no doubt insist on teaching them how to fly as soon as possible. Julia would also be thrilled to have grandchildren. She suddenly was very eager to see a new addition to the Potter family.

Rowan looked at Molly again. The woman's fortitude awed Rowan – how could she manage to support a fighting husband and raise five children all at the same time in the middle of a war? It seemed ludicrous. Rowan was barely able to maintain her job and volatile relationship with her werewolf almost-boyfriend, let alone even consider taking care of a child. And _five_? The woman must not sleep!

"Molly, you should go home and get some rest. I can finish this. Arthur might not be back for a while anyway," she said gently.

Molly shook her head and continued scrubbing dishes. "No, it's okay, Winnie. I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I tried. And besides, we're almost done!" she smiled up at Rowan brightly, but the worry in her eyes remained.

"I don't know how you do it," Rowan said honestly. Molly frowned.

"How can you stand by and let your husband fight when you have a family to care for?" she asked with wonder in her voice. "That sort of thing requires real conviction. I can't even imagine how difficult it is."

Molly smiled genuinely. "Thank you," she said softly, "But I imagine that our reasons for fighting are the same as yours. And it's not like you don't have your own problems to deal with on top of it all," she said kindly.

Rowan shook her head. "No, I can't even compare my situation to yours. It must take incredible faith in Arthur and inner strength to do what you do," she said earnestly. "It's amazing, _really."_

Molly smiled again but didn't say anything and turned back to the dishes. Once they reached the last few, Molly spoke again.

"I've been meaning to apologize to you," she said. Rowan looked over at her, slightly worried. "I had also suspected Remus before we found out about Isaac," Molly confessed quietly. Rowan was startled by the sudden admittance. Molly grimaced slightly.

"After Arthur came home from your meeting with the informant, he told me what you said, and we talked about it," she said quietly, drying off the last plate slowly. "And you were right," she said guiltily.

Rowan stared at the older woman, unsure of what to say. She realized her mouth was slightly open and closed it quickly.

"We did suspect Remus because of his condition, and it was wrong of us. Remus has never done anything to earn that kind of treatment. Even if he was cold or standoffish after you were hurt, we had no reason to start jumping to conclusions. I probably would have been much worse if I had been in his place," she said gravely.

Rowan watched the dark thoughts run across Molly's face before the older woman visibly shook herself and looked back up at Rowan. She smiled genuinely. "Remus is a good man, and he's extremely lucky to have you. I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry for my prejudice, whether it was intentional or not."

Rowan's chest filled with an overwhelming warmth towards Molly. She reached forward and hugged her fiercely. The older woman jumped slightly at the sudden embrace but relaxed and hugged her back. When Rowan pulled away, she looked at her friend warmly and said, "Thank you." She hoped that all of her appreciation was expressed properly, despite her inability to say more.

Molly smiled and was about to say something else when the door slammed open. Both women jumped and pulled out their wands in defense, but it was just James, gripping what looked like _The Daily Prophet_.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, putting his hands up in defense. "Easy! There's an article here that you have to see, Winnie!" he said excitedly as the women put down their wands. He rushed forward to the table and spread the newspaper out in front of her. They both leaned over, and James read it out loud:

"_FOREIGN DEATH EATER DENIED DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY: Mr. Igor Karkaroff, a follower of You-Know-Who, was denied diplomatic immunity early in the morning today by the Ministry of Magic. Karkaroff, a Bulgarian citizen, had been seeking asylum in his home country after being arrested for the murder of renowned Potions Master Damocles Belby and the arson of the latter's apothecary and laboratory in Diagon Alley on the evening of February 5. _

"'_We are very pleased to announce that Mr. Karkaroff will stand trial to answer for his heinous crimes,' commented Mr. Richard Delacroix, Head of the Department of International Law. 'His offenses are an act of evil not just towards Great Britain, but also towards the international Wizarding community as a whole, and he will not go unpunished. We are working closely with the Department of Magical Defense to ensure that such a terrible tragedy does not occur again.'_

"_Karkaroff was arrested the evening of February 5 by Ministry Aurors after being found on the scene of the crime. Ministry officials are still searching for his accomplice, a young man described to be thin and about six feet tall, but their investigation is still ongoing. _

"_Mr. Karkaroff's representatives and the Bulgarian Ministry could not be reached for comment._

"_Damocles Belby was a world-renowned Potions Master, known for his ground-breaking research into lycanthropy and the uses of moonstone. He died shortly after being pulled from the fiery attack on his apothecary at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He was widowed and never remarried. He is survived by his younger brother Demetrius Belby and sister-in-law Marcia._

"_If you have any information regarding the fire or Karkaroff's missing accomplice, please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."_

Rowan's eyes scanned over the words rapidly as she heard James read the article out loud. There was a moving picture of Igor Karkaroff, glowering defiantly at the camera with cold eyes. He had stringy dark hair that hung limply over a thin, long face. His yellow teeth were bared to the camera, stretching widely from beneath a long graying goatee. Rowan felt her anger boil in her blood as she gazed into the man's face.

"Damn," James breathed. "Your dad is such a bad ass," he said, voice filled with awe.

Rowan's eyes darted back to the quote from her father, and her anger mixed with righteous pride. She was truly the daughter of a great man. She suddenly needed to see him badly. She looked at the clock on the wall again. He would have probably already left for the office. She would have to wait until the evening to see him.

"Yeah," she said proudly. "He really is."


	24. Of a Father's Love

**A/N**: "The only man a girl can depend on is her daddy." – Frenchy from _Grease_

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24: Of a Father's Love<strong>

When Remus and Rowan arrived at the Delacroix Manor, they found Richard sitting in his study with a glass of scotch in his hands, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.

"Dad!" Rowan exclaimed as she burst in, followed by a calmer Remus, who sat quietly in the seat across from the older man. She threw her arms around her father's neck, making him spill a bit of his drink in surprise. She pulled away and grinned sheepishly as he sighed with exasperation and placed it on his desk, vanishing away the small splash of liquor. He smiled knowingly at Rowan.

"So you read the paper today," he said smartly. He wore a smug smile, but the tired lines in his face were still apparent.

"Yes, and it was brilliant! I can't thank you enough!" she said gratefully. She noted how exhausted he looked, and her gaze softened. "I can't imagine how much you've had to work to pull this off. I'm sorry for making you go through this," she said ruefully.

He smiled softly. "I'm just doing my job. Knowing how he's hurt you just gives me an extra bit of motivation," he said. Rowan's chest felt like it might burst with affection for her father.

"So what now?" Remus asked. Richard looked over at him, and Rowan saw a strange expression on his face that she couldn't place.

"He'll go on trial with the Wizengamot," Richard replied gravely. "We're still trying to get some names from him, but he wants a deal before he agrees to anything. Some people like Barty Crouch are pushing for it," he said.

Rowan felt a small bubble of panic. "But they can't pardon him! He helped murder someone! And how do we know if he's not just feeding false names to get himself out of trouble? He deserves to go to Azkaban for what he's done!" she exclaimed indignantly.

Richard grimaced. "I know he does, darling, but if the Wizengamot votes to accept his list of conditions then there's nothing I can do about it. I'm pushing as hard as I can to get a conviction, but at this point, I've really done all I can," he said sadly.

Rowan looked at her father with guilt. He looked so old, so tired. He'd been working this case for weeks non-stop, and all she'd done was stomp her feet like a petulant child. He'd always given her everything she'd wanted, and now, he was even risking his life by going up against a known Death Eater. How could she be so ungrateful?

"I'm sorry, Dad," she said quietly. "I know you've been working so hard on this case. I can't express how proud I am of you."

Richard grasped her hand gently and beamed at her. "I will always do everything in my power to make sure that you are safe and taken care of. Even if that means sleeping a little less, then I'll do it without complaints," he said fervently. Rowan's throat constricted with emotion. "You are my greatest treasure. You know that, right?"

She nodded and blinked away the stinging at her eyes. She smiled and squeezed his hands tightly.

He smiled. "Good. Now, go talk to your mother. She's been yapping my ear off non-stop about how she doesn't see you anymore. I need to talk to your friend here alone," he said, pushing her towards the door.

Rowan glanced back at Remus wide-eyed. He stared after her looking bewildered but didn't move. She stood in front of the door, glancing between the two men, but Richard didn't look back at her. He was staring at Remus intently, and Rowan realized she had no choice but to leave Remus there. She shot him an apologetic look before walking out and closing the door quietly.

* * *

><p>Remus watched Rowan leave him in her father's study alone with mild horror. He hadn't been left alone with the older man in ages, and this was the first time since he and Rowan had broken up. Richard was an intimidating man already, but he became an entirely different creature when the matters at hand involved his daughter. He looked at the man carefully with a slight pang of panic.<p>

"Calm down, boy. I just want to talk to you," Richard said gruffly, taking a swig from his glass. As he set it down, he shot a long hard look at Remus. He felt slightly vulnerable.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" the older man asked bluntly.

If Remus had been drinking anything, he would have spat it up. Had he really just asked him that?

But before he could answer, Richard continued: "I know you two are no longer 'together' in an official sense of the word, but I know the expression of a young man in love, and you, sir, still have it all over your face when you look at her."

Remus felt his throat burn with embarrassment. He always figured Rowan's parents knew he still had feelings for her, but hearing her father say it so bluntly was painful. Was he finally going to tell him to shove off?

"When I found out that she was dating a werewolf, I was immediately against it, and I can't say honestly that I was completely displeased when she informed us that she was no longer seeing you," he admitted. He said it confidently and without remorse. Remus was unsure of how to react.

"The idea of my daughter risking her reputation and career for some school romance disturbs me, and now, her involvement with your condition has left her in quite a terrible ordeal, even if she is not romantically involved with you anymore," he declared.

Hearing the cold truth hit Remus off-balance for a moment. He was right – Rowan had gotten hurt numerous times because of her associations with him. Remus' hands gripped his knees with guilt, but he sat straight and forward, not averting his gaze from Richard's face. He waited for the older man to continue.

"But I also know that she's damn stubborn. I'm afraid that's a trait that she inherited from me, though I've generally been quite pleased about it before now," he said.

Remus felt his breaths come short and shallow. Where was he going with this?

"I won't claim to understand the strange dynamic that you have, but if you want to be with her, you have to commit to her – completely, totally, and utterly," Richard said slowly. He emphasized each word with great gravitas. "I know I can't convince her out of this, but _you _can, and if you're even half as honorable as you seem to be, you'll do the right thing by leaving her for good."

Remus felt his blood run cold at the underlying threat in Richard's voice.

Commitment – marriage – had remained in the back of his head since their first conversation, and the dark presence there whispered its desires to claim her, to make her his own in every way. He wanted to be with her, to marry her desperately, but could he really do that? Could he burden her any further?

He thought he'd be able to finally let her go. He wanted to let her go. He'd seen with his own eyes the real damage that her involvement had brought about, and the thought of putting her through more made him sick with despair. But he _couldn't_ completely leave her. He needed to be by her side, to know that she was always safe. Even if he'd ended their romantic relationship, he knew he was incapable of pushing her away completely, that he needed to stay close to her, even under the guise of friendship.

And she'd understood! Even without hearing his explanations or apologies, she'd understood implicitly and completely where life had cruelly led them and why he couldn't be with her any longer. She stood aside willingly to let him walk ahead alone, held herself back from tying him down to her.

"But I have left her," Remus said quietly.

Richard assessed Remus for a moment, swirling his drink on his desk. "You say that," he replied slowly, "but just because you're no longer sharing her bed doesn't mean that you've left her." Remus' face burned at Richard's words.

"My daughter will not be some toy for you to leave and come back to whenever you please. If you want her – if you love her – you'll commit to her completely. If you can't promise me that, then I don't want you anywhere near her," he finished.

Remus weighed the older man's words. Could he promise him to do the right thing? The man had essentially just given him his conditional blessing, but now that he had it, he wasn't sure if he wanted it. It'd be so much easier to push her away if he knew that her parents didn't approve of him, but now he couldn't rationalize it beyond his own personal reasons.

But could he really let her go? Their time apart had been painful. He had been able to resume their friendship relatively easily, but he knew that if he left her again, there would be no friendship, no second chances – at least for him. He wouldn't be able to stand being near her, knowing that she still loved him, that he could never have her. The thought of her moving on without him was equally as painful, and the idea of another man touching her in the way that only he had sparked an echoing howling in his mind.

Richard was looking at him fiercely, waiting for his answer. He looked at the older man and saw all of Rowan's ferocity, her conviction. His eyes burned into him in the same way that hers did, and he knew his answer.

"I can't promise you that I won't hurt her. I think I'll always hurt her somehow," he said honestly, slowly. Richard's face darkened.

"But you're right," he said confidently. "I might have discontinued our relationship de jure, but I can't deny that I'm still very much in love with her. I think I always will be. As far as I'm concerned, every responsibility that I had as her romantic partner to protect her will always remain my privilege and duty."

Remus and Richard stared each other down. The older man glared hard and unwavering, and Remus felt himself begin to falter, but he held his ground. He needed to convince this man that he wasn't going anywhere.

"I do still love her, and I promise to put her life before mine in all ways," he said. "I don't expect her to accept what little of myself I can offer to her forever. I expect that one day she'll realize that she's had enough and cut me out of her life, and when that time comes, I'll step out of it without protest.

"But for now, I have to remain by her side," he said ardently. He felt a fire in his chest. "As long as she is in even the slightest of danger, I'm going to be there to protect her, and if that means going against your wishes, then that's a risk that I'm going to have to take, sir."

Richard assessed him carefully and didn't speak. Remus felt his hands tremble slightly, but he sat tall, not breaking his eye contact with the older man.

Finally, Richard slowly nodded. His expression remained grave, but he felt there was an understanding between them. The tightness in his stomach released slightly.

"I see that I can't dissuade you," Richard said slowly. "But you will promise me that once this war is over, you will either make yourself scarce from Rowan's life or completely share in it. I will not stand for you to be in between." His nostrils flared with something akin to anger, and Remus was startled by the fire in the older man's eyes.

"I will not say it again: You will do the honorable thing by my daughter, so help me, or I will do everything in my power to see that you are forcibly removed from her life. I have no inhibitions, no boundaries when it comes to her happiness. Do you understand me?" he growled.

Remus was absorbed the implications of his words, frightened by the sudden ferocity there. But he pulled himself up and nodded to the older man.

"You have my word, sir."

* * *

><p>When Remus and Richard entered the library together, Rowan felt slightly uneasy. The two men were silent, but they seemed to have a tense understanding shared between them. She was dying to know what they had talked about.<p>

"All finished?" she asked curiously, and they both smiled warmly at her.

Richard clapped Remus hard on the back. "Yep, he's all yours," he said jovially, pushing Remus forward roughly. Remus stumbled forward, looking slightly flustered, and he grinned sheepishly at her with a strange awkwardness.

Richard walked over to Carole, who was seated at her desk, and looked at her fiercely, taking her hand in his. Rowan watched the silent exchange between the two and was filled with gratitude for her parents. As they walked the younger pair to the door and said goodbye, Carole hugged them both affectionately, and Richard shook Remus' hand firmly. They shared another serious, knowing look.

As her father stepped forward to hug her goodbye, she was suddenly filled with a strange ache. He held her longer, squeezed a little harder than usual, and when he pulled away, she couldn't help the empty feeling in her stomach. She looked at him searchingly and saw the gentlest expression there, and she suddenly was struck with an inexplicable fear.

"Better get going before it gets too late," he said softly, holding her face between his hands gently. She smiled jerkily in response, but it felt unnatural, forced. Her face burned as his large hands left it. As she turned towards the door with Remus, she had to look back. She gazed at her parents – old and gray – and tried to memorize their faces, every line, every aspect of their posture, their clothes. They waved goodbye to her, and as she and Remus Disapparated, she was filled with a terrible sense of dread.

* * *

><p>Late the next night, Richard Delacroix sat in his office at the Ministry of Magic, swirling a glass of scotch on ice. He gazed around the room at the old leather seats and polished cypress wood furniture and smiled wryly: wood for the hero's death – how appropriate. He held his wand, also cypress, and ran his fingers over the handle, fingering the grooves and dips that he knew so well. It had been a vital part of him for so long, his loyal partner in all walks of life. He thought of John Potter, of Carole.<p>

_One more battle, my friend,_ he thought. His wand seemed to vibrate in response.

He heard distant voices and took one more sip of his drink before setting it down. He straightened himself in his seat calmly as he heard the voices approach, footsteps pattering rapidly down the hall. Finally, the door burst open, revealing five men in dark robes and glinting silver masks. He looked at them almost amusedly.

"Only five?" he asked tauntingly. "I thought I would have at least warranted eight of you."

"Foolish last words, Delacroix," one said darkly. "You're not leaving here alive."

Richard smiled. "And neither are you, Lestrange," he said calmly.

Then before any of the Death Eaters could react, he tossed his glass into the air and threw a beam of light at it, shattering it into sharp blades, which then shot at the Death Eaters. The glass daggers pierced through their skin, earning loud cries of pain. One fell to the ground as he was stabbed through the leg. The one called Lestrange was pierced through the neck, and he collapsed gurgling and gasping up blood.

The room was filled with flashes of light, and Richard fell behind his desk to shield himself.

"_You'll die for this, old man!"_ the one with the injured leg shouted.

Richard laughed maniacally. "You first!" he shouted before ducking out from behind the table and throwing a green light at the collapsed Death Eater. He fell dead with a grunt.

_Three left,_ he thought.

The men erupted into shouts of anger, crashing into the furniture and moving towards the desk quickly. Lestrange continued to gurgle on the ground, writhing in agony. Richard sat behind his desk and took a deep breath. He looked up at his liquor cabinet and saw his scotch in its crystal bottle sitting on top. It glowed against the moonlight of the window, and he thought of the warm amber of his beloved Carole and Rowan's eyes. He smiled and closed his before holding his wand up. As the remaining three Death Eaters descended upon him, he thought of all the ways he was grateful. Fiendfyre burst from his wand.

The Death Eaters screamed in agony as the fire burned into their robes. The flames formed roaring wolves and lions, which consumed the wooden furniture around them, and Richard realized tiredly that he had made a grave miscalculation. He was much too exhausted to control them.

_You've gotten old, Richard,_ he thought to himself darkly.

"_I'll kill you, Delacroix! _I'LL KILL YOU!" one screamed, thrashing wildly with pain and trying to put out the fire.

Richard smiled to himself and leaned back against his desk.

"We'll all go down together," he said quietly.

As the room around them burned, he heard the sirens of the Fire Department but knew it was too late for all of them. The room was filled with smoke, and the windows burst from the flames. Every surface of the room seemed to be on fire. He felt the smoke fill his lungs, and his back burned agonizingly, but he was too tired to move.

One of the screaming Death Eaters tore off his robes and mask and stood in front of Richard with his wand drawn, teeth bared and eyes blazing in rage. His face, arms and chest were painfully burnt black and red, and Richard smelled the stench of burning flesh. He thought of his daughter.

_Have I avenged you yet, darling?_ he thought.

He smiled up at the dark wizard and closed his eyes, and as he saw the green light flash from behind his eyelids, he knew that he had lived and died honorably.


	25. Of Living By One's Creed

**A/N**: This is a long chapter and marks a bit of a turning point.

Thanks to all of you who have reviewed over the past few days! This story has more reviews than its prequel now, which strikes me as illogical, but I'm not gonna complain! THANK YOU, THANK YOU!

Also, I had no idea Richard's character was so popular... People were much more upset than I'd expected, so uh... sorry? And thank you! I'm very grateful and proud that my OCs have touched you in any way.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25: Of Living By One's Creed<strong>

The April afternoon was warm with a bright yellow sun. The trees were spotted with pink and white flower buds, just about to bloom. It all seemed highly inappropriate for the somber occasion.

Hundreds of witches and wizards in black robes sat and stood, many weeping, some with solemn expressions. The number of impressive figures in attendance was staggering, from the Minister of Magic to the Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Every member from the Order of the Phoenix was present. An official at the front of the congregation stood next to the closed casket and spoke eloquently of Richard Delacroix's life and accomplishments. He reverently placed a medal over the casket – the Order of Merlin, First Class. Rowan glared at it bitterly.

Alfred, Rowan and Carole sat in the front, all three dry-eyed and looking forward with fierce determination. Rowan's hands were clutched in her lap tightly, as were her mother's. Behind them sat all of her friends. James Potter looked forward with grief across his features while his wife Lily and mother Julia sobbed, grasping hands. Lyall Lupin, Sirius Black, Mina Surrey, and Peter Pettigrew sat still like solemn stones.

The only person whose gaze seemed to be averted from the casket in front was Remus Lupin, who sat beside Rowan. She didn't turn to look at him, but his gaze frequently flickered to see her anxiously. His hands gripped his knees almost painfully, as if forcing them to remain there, to not reach out and touch the young woman next to him. She didn't seem to notice.

As the Ministry official concluded, he gestured to Rowan, and the entire congregation turned to look at her. Rowan stood from her seat and moved to the front, desperately fighting her trembling hands. As she stood at the podium and gazed out on the sea of faces set in black, she felt her stomach tighten painfully. It seemed cruel for her father to put her through this after he'd already left her behind.

She took a shaky breath and looked up at the sky. It was bright and blue and clear, and she thought bitterly of the warm feeling she'd had just a couple weeks before - how could the promise of spring ever be so wrong? The parchment of her notes in her hands was wrinkled from her wringing. She gathered herself and then spoke:

"The Delacroix family has an ancient motto," she said shakily. Her voice sounded weaker than she would have liked, but as she cleared her throat, she realized somewhat sourly that it would remain that way.

"It states, 'Honor in bravery and justice for all.'" Rowan breathed deeply and imagined that her father's voice spoke from her mouth. "For years, I would listen to my father recite that creed, and for years, I would roll my eyes at what I thought was campy enthusiasm. It wasn't until I grew old enough to understand the evils of this world and see the darkness of these days with my own eyes that I truly understood the profundity of our family's motto.

"My father Richard lived everyday seeking justice, and he died with honor showing the purest of bravery. He was a man who defended the voiceless and demonstrated what it truly means to be a Gryffindor: loyalty to one's friends, courage in the face of darkness, and an unquenchable thirst to stand up for what is right.

"He was a loving husband, a doting father, and an irreplaceable friend. His passion for conquering the injustices of this world was only outmatched by the ferocity of his devotion to his loved ones. He worked tirelessly to see that the law was upheld, and he died a warrior's death, fighting until the very end."

Rowan searchingly looked out into the crowd, not really knowing what she was looking for. The expressions on the individual faces hadn't changed, and she felt empty.

"I can spend hours, days, telling you how much he meant to me and my family and how much he meant to the wizarding world, but I think the sheer number of people in attendance here today can testify to the kind of man that Richard Delacroix was. I knew him as a loving parent, but he was more than that. My father was a role model, someone whose aspirations and actions spoke of higher virtues and morals. He was a servant for the people, someone who stood for something greater than himself or the Delacroix family. It only seems appropriate that I speak to what he wished to see in the future for our community, not just the warm personal sentiments I have.

"He didn't want flowery words or declarations of praise. My father wanted justice. He wanted to put evil men behind bars and punish them for their crimes. It would be a lie for me to say that I don't want revenge for the terrible way that he died, but I can say that if he were still here, he would want to see justice upheld. He would want to end this war and bring peace back to the wizarding world."

She took another breath, her face burning at the shakiness of her voice, but she pulled all of the fire left in her forward.

"My father did what most are too afraid to do: he looked into the face of evil men and fought them publicly and proudly until he had nothing left to give. He lived as an avenger, and he died a hero's death."

The volume of her voice had increased, and she felt the flames running through her veins. She thought of her father, and the heat of his fiendfyre.

"I am proud to say that I am the daughter of the Delacroix family and that I will spend the rest of my life standing in the face of evil – even when I'm afraid and even when I think I have nothing left to give – because I know that my father died fighting for what he believed in. I will always think lovingly of the kind man who was my father, and I will always think proudly of the brave hero who was Richard Delacroix. And if he has touched any of your lives as well, I hope that the next time that you are faced with darkness, you will think of him and all of the ways that he fought for justice. Thank you."

She moved from the podium as soon as the last words left her mouth. She didn't look again towards the faces of the crowd and walked back to her seat quickly. As she sat, her mother grasped her hand tightly. They kept their gazes forward, but she knew that a chapter for both women had closed quietly in their hearts. And for both, there was much work to be done.

* * *

><p>A solemn reception at the Delacroix Manor followed the funeral, and Rowan looked about bitterly at the numerous Ministry officials rubbing elbows with each other. They stood around the manor salon and chatted in hushed tones, though obviously very animatedly. It seemed shameful that they would use such an event to try and further their connections when one of their own had just died. She wanted to scream at them, to tell them to all leave.<p>

"That was quite an impressive eulogy. You inherited your father's talent for public speaking, it seems."

Rowan's dark thoughts were broken by a hard voice, and she turned to see a man that she recognized from the newspapers and a few of the Ministry events her father had taken her to over the years – Bartemius Crouch Sr. He was a tall man with a serious expression, garbed in impeccably tailored dress robes and a narrow, toothbrush moustache. Though his words were of praise, she didn't feel complimented.

Next to him stood a handsome, lanky young man with straw-colored hair that she recognized as Barty Crouch Jr. He had been a couple of years behind her at Hogwarts in Slytherin. She noted that he had filled out slightly since the last time she'd seen him, dressed in just as sophisticated robes as his father. He had been a quiet and diligent student, a Prefect, and always a competitor for the top marks in his class but never one for the limelight. She'd spoken to him a few times while at school, and despite being a Slytherin, he'd seemed friendly enough. He'd never given her a reason to dislike him, unlike many of his other housemates.

"Mr. Crouch," she acknowledged with a curt nod. "Thank you very much for coming."

She held out her hand, which Barty Sr. shook firmly. He held a hard gaze with her, and she felt a strange fire in her chest as she looked back. It was as if he was trying to stare her down for some reason, and she was determined to match his intensity.

She then turned to his son, who smiled softly at her and extended his hand as well, though still firm his grasp was much gentler. The contrast between the two men was startling.

"It's good to see you again, Rowan," he said quietly. His face grew more solemn. "I'm very sorry about your father. He was a brave man," he said sympathetically.

"Thank you," she said, unsure of how to respond to him. He seemed much more confident than the last time they'd met. She had to pause to make sure he was the same boy she knew from school.

"I've been meaning to speak to you for a while now, Ms. Delacroix," Barty Sr. suddenly said very brusquely. She was slightly taken aback by his forwardness, but she held his gaze with as much poise as she could muster. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she couldn't lose face to this man.

"I apologize, Mr. Crouch. I was unaware of this," she said levelly.

"I understand that you were Damocles Belby's apprentice at the time of his death, were you not?" the Ministry official said. He stated it as a question, but she heard no real inquiry in it. It sounded more like an accusation.

Rowan felt her anger bubble at his rudeness but kept it from her voice. "That is correct," she said curtly.

"I need to know everyone that the apothecary dealt with during your time there. This means clients, suppliers, researchers – everyone you could possibly think of," he said quickly and coldly. His eyes bore into hers. "I will also need a complete inventory."

"I've already given all of our records to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Mr. Crouch, and I have testified to a series of Aurors my account of what happened the day of my master's murder. I believe that is under your department's jurisdiction, is it not?" she countered quickly.

He bristled noticeably. "There have been some… changes in policies recently with my appointment as the Head of the department," he answered carefully. "We are beginning a new investigation with new procedures – ones that I hope will yield more effective results. Therefore, I will once again be needing your full cooperation."

Rowan assessed the older man, and he seemed to size her up as well. She remembered her father's words about Mr. Crouch – that he was ruthless and willing to bargain with flunky Death Eaters if it meant getting to the bigger villains. She knew she had to tread carefully with this man. _  
><em>

"My father mentioned that some officials were considering offering suspects, uh, _certain liberties_ for the names of fellow Death Eaters," she said carefully.

Crouch Sr. nodded curtly and eyed her carefully. "Yes, we reason that if a felon gives the Ministry enough critical information about Death Eater activity and/or participants and is not an immediate threat, certain arrangements can be made to shorten incarceration time," he said fiercely.

There was a strange mania in the man's eyes, and Rowan felt icy dread crawl up her spine. It reminded her of Remus' dark looks after she'd been burnt. She felt incredibly uncomfortable knowing that this man was the new Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The thought of men like Karkaroff being given less than life in Azkaban was infuriating. She had to quell the surge of heat that shot up her back.

"I see," she said quietly. "I have to admit that I'm not entirely in agreement with this policy. I find it difficult to put my faith in a government that bargains with murderers."

The older man assessed her quietly, eyes scanning over her analytically, as if trying to determine her every weakness. She held his gaze steadily and held herself upright with squared shoulders. She would not be intimidated by this man.

"I'll also be on the case, Rowan," Barty Jr. piped in.

Rowan jerked her head to look at the young man. He was looking at her earnestly with a fire in his eyes, though softer than his father's. She looked at him searchingly, unsure of how to respond. He had always been a nice boy. She felt bad that such a gentle man had to endure such an incorrigible father. It seemed very wrong for such a person to be placed in Slytherin. She smiled softly.

"Yes, I'd heard that you'd also joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this year," she said quietly. _Though it doesn't make much sense for someone like you to pursue such a career,_ she thought. He seemed much more suited for something like academia, something with books and old parchment. "I'm glad to know someone I can trust will be investigating the case."

He smiled warmly at her.

"I promise I'll do my best. I swear we'll catch the man who murdered Mr. Belby," he pledged fervently. She was quite taken aback by his eagerness. He'd never spoken to her in this way before.

Crouch Sr. looked between Rowan and his son, a calculating look spread across his features.

"You know," he started slowly, "Your father and I were good friends for years. We had often discussed how wonderful it would be to have our families better acquainted. After all, you and Barty are so close in age. It seems foolish that we never thought to introduce you two earlier on," he said carefully, looking at Rowan steadily. "And to have our families working so closely together... Great things could happen," he added cryptically.

Rowan heard the suggestion before Crouch Sr. could even squeeze the words out. She glanced at Barty Jr., who was looking slightly embarrassed at his father's shameless implications, though not displeased. The young man's face was slightly pink and looking at her cautiously.

"Yes, my father did mention it before," she answered slowly, keeping her gaze held with Barty Jr.'s. He stared back with a quiet intensity. "I also have thought that it was regrettable that we were never better acquainted. Two great houses - we could certainly benefit from each other."

She turned back to Crouch Sr. pointedly, who was still looking at her with that careful expression. They held gazes evenly for a silent moment before Crouch Sr.'s face broke into a slow grin.

"Well, then," he drawled, "No time like the present, is there?" He looked at his son with his triumphant smile, though his eyes bore into the younger man's. Rowan could nearly hear the older man's silent warnings to the younger. _Don't mess this up, boy._

"Yes," Barty Jr. said lightly, tearing his gaze from his father's and looking at Rowan. He smiled warmly. "Let me take you out to lunch sometime, as a family friend. We should make up for lost time," he said slowly.

Rowan smiled graciously, silently patting herself on the back for coming across this opportunity. "I would enjoy that very much," she said softly.

* * *

><p>The Marauders had been watching the entire exchange between the Crouch men and Rowan from the corner of the salon with bated breath. The group's energy hummed anxiously as they saw angry sparks fly between Rowan and the older Crouch, and at the sight of the younger, Sirius had sourly muttered things under his breath like, "slimy Slytherin shit" and "Eyes on her face, you dickhead," as he and James never took kindly to Slytherins. Remus had gotten along decently with his fellow Prefect Barty Jr. while at Hogwarts despite his house placement, but as he saw the younger man smile at Rowan warmly, he couldn't help but agree with Sirius.<p>

When they saw Crouch Sr. grin at Rowan, they'd all bristled uncomfortably. Even at a distance, they could see the scheming behind his eyes, and when Remus noticed the pointed glances he made between Rowan and his son, the light-haired Marauder felt his stomach twist painfully. The dark voice within him roared with anger.

"What? No, Winnie… You can't possibly…" James whispered as he saw Rowan scribble something on a piece of parchment and hand it to Barty Jr. When he saw the younger man smile brightly at her, he groaned, and Remus elbowed him sharply in the stomach to shut up. He grunted painfully.

Remus couldn't breathe. As he saw Rowan slip the piece of parchment into the man's hands, he saw her fingers purposefully graze his. She smiled warmly at the young Ministry official, and he in turn looked quite taken with her. Remus felt something tearing at his insides, thrashing wildly to be let out. He wanted to rip Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s eyes from his face so that he could never look at _his_ woman again.

As the two men turned to leave, she shook hands with them again. She nodded curtly to the older, noticeably shaking his hand with a vigorous grip. The younger grasped her small hand with both of his earnestly, and he held it a moment longer than necessary. Remus mentally noted that his hands would be the next body part to be torn away.

After Rowan was sure that they'd departed, they saw her visibly relax. It was as if all the air in her suddenly deflated. She closed her eyes and took a few deep shaky breaths, running a hand through her hair anxiously. When she opened her eyes back up, there was a renewed heat there. Remus could almost hear her hyping herself up mentally. She then turned on her heel and walked from the room.

"What the shit was that?" Sirius whispered with awe. "She couldn't possibly have just given her information to slithery Slytherin _Barty Crouch,_ right? Did I just imagine that?"

"I can't believe it either," James whispered. He looked confused and slightly angry. "Something's not right. She wouldn't have just agreed to something like that after having such an intense sparring with Crouch. There must be something else going on that we don't know. Maybe we're misreading things," he reasoned quickly.

"Yeah, maybe they're commissioning her for some potions or something," Peter reasoned. The others nodded, but it was obvious that none of the four actually believed it.

"You don't think Crouch blackmailed her, do you?" Sirius asked slowly.

The four looked at each other carefully. "No, Crouch is ruthless, but I can't think of any reason for that. He and our dads were mates," James said slowly. "I know that Richard had been trying to set her up with some young blokes at the Ministry, but I never thought she'd agree to go out with _Crouch _of all people," he muttered darkly.

James suddenly looked towards Remus with guilt. "I'm sorry, mate. I would've told you, but you two were broken up and all, and she was never interested in it, so I didn't think it was worth mentioning," he said quickly. His words dripped with apology. "And I can't really believe she'd go through with this. There must be a mistake," he reasoned.

Remus tried to stifle the anger that was threatening to burst. The monster in him was thrashing wildly. He bristled with barely contained rage.

"We should just go find Rowan and ask," Peter suggested. The three other men turned towards him with surprise. Even he looked startled at his own voice.

"You're right, Wormy," James said, slightly in awe of the smaller man's rare input. "Yeah, let's find her."

* * *

><p>Rowan lay in the grass in the backyard alone, staring up at the blue sky. She noted that she'd have a hell of a time getting the grass out of her hair and robes when she got up and that it was highly irresponsible to leave her mother alone at her father's funeral reception, but the intensity of her conversation with the Crouch men had left her drained and in need of silence. The sky seemed so endless. She wanted to be swallowed by it.<p>

The thought of going out on a few dates with Barty Jr. didn't appall her, but she wasn't thrilled about it either. He was a nice boy – intelligent, gentle, decently good-looking, and well-connected like her father had wanted. If she squinted hard enough, he could even resemble Remus slightly. Really, wasn't he a great potential partner? She grimaced. Yes, but she knew that despite all of his good points, he still wasn't Remus, and this was still going to inevitably end poorly.

All three members of the party seemed to understand the underlying implications of their conversation: Rowan wanted Crouch Sr. to ensure a life sentence for Karkaroff, and Crouch Sr. wanted an impressive pureblood partner for his son. It wasn't exactly a written contract and it was possible that Crouch Sr. was just giving her false hope without any intention of actually trying for a conviction, but if pretending to date Barty Jr. meant having even a slight hand in Karkaroff's case, then she'd do it without complaint. She felt bad towards Barty, but he seemed to understand and held no visible resentment. He'd seemed rather enthusiastic really. She wondered how long she'd have to keep up the charade before Crouch got a conviction for Karkaroff. She hoped that Barty wouldn't mistake their relationship for something genuine.

"There you are!"

Rowan inwardly groaned at James' voice. She wasn't dumb. She knew they'd all been watching her talk to the Crouch men, and she knew they were seeking her out for answers. They were the last people she wanted to see at that moment. Or rather, _Remus_ was the last person she wanted to see at that moment. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth for the coming interrogation.

She opened her eyes to see James and Sirius staring down at her. Remus and Peter stood behind James and Sirius respectively. They were all visibly upset. She closed her eyes, desperately not wanting to meet Remus' gaze.

"What?" she asked sharply.

"We want to know what the hell just happened in there," James said. She could hear petulance in his voice, which sent a small flicker of anger through her. She didn't have the patience for this today.

"I don't see how that's any business of yours. Isn't it rude to eavesdrop?" she asked shortly.

"We weren't eavesdropping. We just watched," Sirius reasoned, sounding indignant.

"Tomato, tomahto," she drawled.

"Answer the question, Rowan!" James demanded.

"Like I said, I really don't see how it's any of your concern," she replied haughtily.

Suddenly, her view went from blue sky to James. Her head spun from the sharp movement, as he yanked her up from the ground so that she was sitting up. She had to grip James' arms unsteadily to ground herself and find which was down.

"Winnie, _tell me_ you didn't just agree to go out with Barty Crouch, of all people!" he demanded quietly.

She felt heat flare in her chest brightly. He seemed to shrink away from her gaze slightly. "So what if I did?" she asked angrily. "I don't see how it's any of your fucking business!"

James' face also flared with anger at her tone. "Of course it's our business!" he retorted. "You're our best friend, and he's a Slytherin! If you're going to go out with someone, it should be because you want to, not because his father blackmailed you!"

"Who said anything about blackmail?" she spat angrily. "Maybe I'm just trying to find someone to settle down with. Maybe I'm trying to fulfill my dead father's wishes to marry well. Did you ever think of that?" She glared hard at him. "And so what if he's a Slytherin? He's a good guy – isn't that all that matters?"

James snorted. "Winnie, we_ all_ know you've never given a shit about 'marrying well,'" he responded derisively. "There's something going on between you and Crouch, and as your friends, we have the right to know!" He glared back. "And there's no such thing as a 'good Slytherin,'" he spat.

"Merlin was a Slytherin," she retorted defiantly. She felt like a petulant child for her insipid comment, but she was still feeling contrary from her conversation with Crouch, and James was quickly hacking away at her patience.

"Stop trying to defend him!" he barked angrily.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just _like_ the guy?" she shouted. They all looked disturbed at the suggestion. "Maybe I like him! Maybe I find him attractive, and you're hurting my feelings by saying all these terrible things when you don't even know him! Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I'm doing this because I want to?"

She was lying through her teeth, but if she told them her real reasons, the Marauders would make the boy's life a living hell and probably barge into Crouch Sr.'s office with threats. Shit, she knew they were probably going to torment the young Crouch anyway, but maybe they'd go a little easier on him if they believed that she actually was interested in him.

James looked murderous. He glared at Rowan with nostrils flaring. He looked as if he was struggling to keep his limbs in place, like he wanted to punch something.

"I know that's bull shit, Winnie, but if you want to keep lying to me, fine," he said quietly, bristling with fury. Guilt hit her as she saw the hurt in his eyes, but she kept her face straight. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this sooner or later, and if I find out that Crouch is doing something even slightly shady, he's going to pay," he said darkly.

His eyes searched her face thoroughly again, but she held fast and stared back, willing herself to not look away with guilt. His mouth twitched. _You win for now_. He stood and looked at Sirius. The two walked back into the house with Peter scurrying after them.

Rowan stared at the grass, berating herself angrily. She'd just hurt her oldest friend because she was dishonorably using someone to get revenge for her master's death and was too ashamed to admit it. Should she have told him? Would he have understood?

No. She knew he'd be too angry to see her reasoning behind it. He'd insist that she break her arrangement off with Crouch. He'd think that they could find a way to get Karkaroff behind bars honestly without the man's help. But she knew that James was too naïve, too honest to understand that sometimes nepotism and backhanded deals were the only way to achieve one's ends, that other people weren't as good as he and Lily were. She thought bitterly to herself that she was one of those people.

Suddenly, she saw a pair of black leather shoes step into her vision. She looked up and saw Remus looking down at her, smiling sadly. Her chest constricted painfully, and she couldn't meet his eye.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I'm sure your mother's looking for you by now," he said softly, extending his hand out.

She gazed at it warily, and the guilt that ate at her stomach seemed to multiply in mere seconds. She wanted to apologize to him, tell him that despite how it looked she loved him still, but she held her tongue. What did it matter if she still loved him? It wouldn't change anything between them. She took his hand carefully, trying not to pay attention to its warmth, and he pulled her to her feet with ease.

She stood in front of him, staring at his chest and avoiding his eyes.

"Hey, look at me," Remus said softly.

Rowan faltered, eyes darting upward slowly. It was painful, forcing herself to look up, but she finally met his gaze. He looked at her searchingly. She wanted to curl up and die with shame.

"You know what you're doing, right?" he asked quietly.

Rowan felt her mouth quiver and mentally kicked herself for slipping. He, of course, noticed, and his face melted darkly. She could see a flicker of anger there. She straightened her face and gathered her poise.

"Yeah," she said firmly. She didn't believe the tone of her own voice. "I have it all under control."


	26. Of Means to an End

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! Another longer chapter.

I've been listening to the "Colors" and "Decorate" by Yuna on repeat. Coincidentally, they both relate to the story I think. Also, she's a phenomenal singer-songwriter. You should go listen!

**S38:** So good to hear from you again! I'm so glad you're still reading! And yes, many things have changed _sigh_. But what will never change is my love for good old-fashioned UST hehe.

**snuffles95:** Thank you! I'm pretty excited about how Barty's character is going to play out. I've never heard of anyone else using him in such a way, so I'm pretty proud of myself tbh hehe. He's developing in an interesting way in my head. I can't wait for all of you to see his role play out.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW P-P-PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26: Of Means to an End<strong>

Rowan and Carole wept for days after Richard's death, quietly mourning in the privacy of Delacroix Manor. His body had been badly burnt, though not to the same extent as Belby's. The Healers informed them that he'd died of the Killing Curse, not his burns, and Rowan was strangely grateful - perhaps he hadn't suffered too much before his death. They buried him quietly in Godric's Hollow next to John Potter. She thought that perhaps if she listened hard enough, she could hear the two reunited friends laughing from the next plane.

Richard's office had been burnt beyond recognition. The cypress furniture had been blackened and charred, though the spaces around his office had remained intact - he had set up protection spells around it to contain the damage, and Rowan realized bitterly that he had known his time was coming. She thought back to his gentle behavior the last time she'd seen him and knew that had been his final goodbye. She almost resented his faultless bravery, wished that he'd been able to swallow his pride and request help from the Order but knew that it was exactly how he'd want to die - fighting till the very end. She thought of the five Death Eaters who had perished in the fire along with him and mentally spat on their memories with great relish.

Rowan spent much of her time after in her father's study at home, going through his belongings and quietly cherishing every piece of him she could find. She found that he had kept every card, every silly drawing or memento that she'd given him as a child in an enchanted bottomless box within his desk. All of her report cards, letters from school, and photos of her throughout the years were bound neatly in the box. She cried over them, clutching each desperately. She wondered if her tears would reach the bottom of the box – would they find her father there?

After the funeral, Rowan didn't see her mother cry again. She took on a hard, determined look, often disappearing into the library or her bedroom for long periods of time. Rowan imagined that she needed time to grieve alone and didn't seek her out. Carole took care of all of Richard's final affairs without accepting help from her daughter, and Rowan wondered if this was her mother's way of holding onto her father. As she walked through the long halls of their home, she wondered if she would be able to eventually inherit it without bitterness.

Remus came and went frequently as he had when Belby had died, though he had taken on a new determination that Rowan had never seen in him. There was a fire there that had been absent before her father's death. She reasoned that he was probably just feeling more protective – after all, it wasn't unreasonable to think that the Death Eaters would pursue Richard's family next as their attack had actually been a great loss for them – but there was something else there, something she couldn't name. She wanted to ask him, but he hadn't pestered her to talk about her mourning, so she reasoned that if he wanted to discuss this new determination, he would.

But still, the days felt lonelier than ever now that Richard Delacroix was no longer in the world. She wondered if her mother cried as she lay in bed alone and knew that the older woman's loneliness was probably one thousand times heavier than her own. Her heart ached. She prayed silently that whomever was struck next wouldn't be taken with fire and smoke as well.

In her moments of mania, she'd begun moving her potion making equipment into the manor basement and ordering new ingredients. Carole and Alfred had encouraged her to finally restart her research there – the space was large and well-equipped already for fumigating and light adjustment, and the floors and walls were sturdy with protected stone so spilled liquids wouldn't do much damage. It all seemed like the perfect place – why hadn't she seen it before?

She'd finally organized the box of remaining research material that Fabian had saved from the fire. There was a good amount – amazing, really. She knew that it would take quite a bit of time to make up for what was lost, but she could remember most of the more important details. She was also eternally grateful that her mother's binder of notes remained in her flat. It was just a matter of going through the procedures again, finding the exact numbers and values. The fire in her began to burn again.

But the immediate issue pressing on Rowan's mind was her arrangement with Barty Crouch. Barty Jr. owled her a few days after speaking to him at her father's funeral reception about taking her out to lunch as he'd promised. She noted sadly that his handwriting was similar to Remus' – graceful and small - and wrote back in a false tone of cheeriness that she'd love to join him.

In her quiet solitude, she thought sadly of what her father would say if he were still alive. He'd definitely see through her ruse, she thought bitterly. She was beginning to see that she took after him much more than she'd thought - her scheming had finally reached a level comparable to his own. However, her stomach clenched painfully knowing that he was probably rolling in his grave - he wouldn't have wanted this. He would've done everything in his power to pull favors with Crouch himself so that she wouldn't have to get her own hands dirty. Her throat squeezed - but he wasn't here anymore, was he? _I have to do this, Dad,_ she would pray silently. _You understand, right?_

Her mother had been shocked, to say the least, when she told her that she had agreed to go out with the younger Crouch. Carole eyed her warily, and Rowan had a sneaking suspicion that the older woman knew what she was up to, though she didn't say anything. She didn't give the tentative relationship her blessing, nor did she rebuff it, but it was apparent to Rowan that she wasn't pleased. It somewhat relieved her to know that her mother would probably step in and object to the relationship if things started getting out of hand for whatever reason.

Alfred _definitely_ saw through her plans though. He'd slapped her on the back of the head roughly and yelled at her for a solid ten minutes. She hadn't had the nerve to fight back and sat on her bed silently with head bowed, accepting his anger with resignation. She pathetically felt like she was a small child again, caught red-handed in one of her little pranks. But this wasn't just a prank anymore, and Alfred's anger wasn't laced with amusement. She was a woman now, and her uncle-figure was very aware of the position she was placing herself in. As she apologized weakly with heaviness, he'd seemed to be overtaken with rage and stormed out of her room. He didn't speak to her for days after, and it hurt her deeply - he'd never been so angry with her before. When he began speaking to her again, he made no mention of their previous conversation, but she'd still catch him eyeing her warily with a mixture of grief and anger. Her stomach seemed to be in a constant state of tension.

James and Sirius' anger, however, had seemingly subsided, but they continued to grill her with questions about the details of her first date with Barty. She ignored their interrogations, feeding them blatant lies about where they were going or when, and they seemed to be on the verge of giving up, though she also caught them at various times scheming something. She was mildly worried about what they were up to.

Lily and Mina had been more tactful about approaching the subject with Rowan, working their way up to it and asking delicately about Barty. Rowan spoke kindly about the young man but steered the conversation away from him as quickly as she could. She could see Mina's rapidly growing frustration with her reticence and worried momentarily that she would blow up at her like James had, but Lily luckily kept their friend from pushing her any further. She felt grateful towards the redhead – she could always count on her to be polite.

Remus had been the most difficult to deal with, though he hadn't actually given her any reason to feel that way. He hadn't treated her any differently than before, but every now and then, she'd catch him staring at her with the most heartbreaking expression that she'd ever seen. On a few occasions, she'd had to excuse herself to get a grip on her bearings before coming back out to face him again. There were so many reasons she wanted to give him, so many things that he didn't understand, but she knew that if she told him, he'd get angry at her recklessness and demand that she put an end to her backhanded scheming. She mused darkly that perhaps she should have been the one put into Slytherin, not Barty.

As she looked at Remus with guilt, she reasoned that she had really arrived at this point because of her devotion to him. After all, she'd sought out Damocles Belby so that she could relieve Remus of his condition one day. And if it weren't for her loyalty to Belby, she wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. Shouldn't that relieve her a bit, knowing that she was in fact helping him by hurting him?

_No_, she thought bitterly. The only people who benefitted from this terrible scheme were herself and Barty Crouch Sr.

* * *

><p>It was sunny and warm again, a beautiful mid-April afternoon. Rowan gazed at the sky as she walked slowly down the streets of Diagon Alley. There was a sour taste in her mouth. Why was it that the most beautiful of days always seemed to be marked with bitterness, recently?<p>

As she approached the café that Barty had specified, she noted that she was a few minutes late. She hated tardiness, but there was something about this entire ordeal that had made her not want to leave her apartment until the very last moment. But she'd dragged herself out and into the sun in some girly dress that her mother had bought her once upon a time. She'd even gone so far as to put on a little makeup and a few styling charms on her hair. She felt utterly ridiculous.

She saw Barty's straw-colored hair as she approached, seated at an outside table beneath a large, charming umbrella. She noted that the entire setting was all very charming, and that she should _feel_ charmed, but all she could find was resignation. It was nearly humorous, really. It all seemed like a cruel prank, like she'd lost some bet to James and this was her strange punishment. He certainly would enjoy mocking her by forcing her into a dress.

But as Barty turned towards her, she realized that she was no longer a child playing games with her best friend, and this terrible scheme could actually hurt people - people like Barty, like Remus. Her throat clenched, but she forced a smile across her face that even she had to admit was pretty damn convincing. He beamed at her and stood politely as she approached the table, and she quickly pushed back every feeling of dread or remorse. She prayed that she could at least make it past the first date without completely falling apart.

* * *

><p>A group of four men carefully eyed the handsome couple at the outdoor table from inside the café, all with murderous expressions on their faces. James Potter and Sirius Black chomped on breadsticks furiously as they watched Barty stand to greet Rowan, kissing her chastely on the cheek, which she accepted gracefully.<p>

"That fucking slimy git. If he doesn't quit touching her, I'm going to kill him," James seethed, mouth full of bread.

The pair talked amiably over the menus. Barty gestured to something, and she leaned forward. He also leaned forward, bringing their faces closer together as he pointed to an item on her menu. She smiled and nodded and touched his hand flirtatiously. Sirius choked slightly on his bread, coughing up a few pieces into Remus' face, who swatted them away with annoyance before looking back outside.

Someone suddenly stepped into their view, and they groaned loudly at the source of the obstruction. A frightened looking waitress stared back at them, unsure of how to proceed.

"Umm… Are you ready to order?" she squeaked, glancing carefully around the table. The three taller men seemed quite distracted, craning their necks desperately around her to see the couple outside.

Peter looked around at them. James and Sirius were on the edge of their seats, and Remus had a frigid look in his eyes that made Peter's blood freeze over. He was beginning to fear that they were going to do something severely stupid. He sighed with resignation.

"I think I'm just going to order for the whole table," he said to the young woman, looking at her apologetically. She nodded and smiled weakly before leaning down to hear the young man's order.

* * *

><p>When he'd watched her and James argue at the Delacroix Manor, Remus had been nearly deaf. He'd seen the fire in her eyes, and despite all of her protests, he knew James was onto something. There was something terribly wrong about what had occurred between her and the Crouch men, and though he desperately wanted to know what she was planning, he forced himself to trust that she knew what she was doing. Hadn't she always wanted him to trust her, after all?<p>

He had originally felt incredibly guilty when James and Sirius had declared that they should find out where Rowan was going on her first date with the young Crouch, but when Alfred had offered the information so willingly, it was hard to _not_ go. But now that he saw them together, Remus was trying desperately hard to not storm outside and bash Barty Crouch's face into the table until it was bloody. It was taking all of his willpower to not listen to the dark voice roaring inside of his head, demanding that he show the newcomer _exactly_ to whom Rowan belonged. He wanted to follow the skirt of that dress up and press himself against her, inside her, prove to her that she belonged with _him_ and not this well-dressed man-boy.

He watched her smile and speak engagingly with the other man and felt a surge of raw jealousy racing through his blood. When she'd arrived, he could tell that her smiles had been forced, but as they had continued to talk, he saw sincerity there. When she reached forward to touch his hand, he saw red. It made him want to smash the table into pieces.

Had he been wrong? Had she been telling the truth when she said that she was interested in Barty Crouch? He was handsome in his own way, and if Remus thought about it objectively, they made an impressive couple. But he was too young, too inexperienced, Remus thought. He was still a boy, not nearly man enough to handle a woman like Rowan Delacroix. She was fire and electricity, and this _boy_ was delicate hands and rich fabrics. What did he know about courting a woman like her?

He wanted to pull her away from this damned café, drag her to his apartment and take her until she was too sore to move and could think of nothing but him. He wanted her to forget that there was anyone else, that Barty Crouch even existed. And as he saw her smile at the other man, he wanted desperately to think that she was thinking of him instead.

* * *

><p>Rowan had to admit that she was actually enjoying herself. Barty was an engaging conversationalist with a funny sense of wit and incredibly knowledgeable in many areas. Though he couldn't understand the more advanced concepts, he'd been able to keep up with her potions jargon when he'd asked about her research, and when she'd inquired about his Ministry work, he'd impressed her with his understanding of the judicial system. Though there wasn't much chemistry there, she could see herself being good friends with him. It was certainly much better than she'd prepared for.<p>

He had nice brown eyes, she noted. He didn't have the same masculine jaw or chiseled cheekbones as Remus, but there was certainly something kind about him. She wished that she had more female friends that she could eventually set him up with after she ended their charade.

He, surprisingly, seemed to be on the same page.

"You know, I don't actually expect anything to come of this," he said suddenly.

Rowan choked slightly on her water and looked up at him, face reddening at her lack of poise.

He smiled sheepishly at her, and she looked at him with confusion. "I mean, I know that you're just dating me to get to Karkaroff, and I can't blame you. The man is filth," he said. He spat the last sentence so venomously that Rowan wondered if she'd misheard him.

"No, Barty-" she started, but he shook his head and interrupted her.

"No, it's all right," he said consolingly. "I completely understand. Honestly, the fact that I can get my father off my back about my love life is good enough for me. Really, you're doing _me_ a favor," he said jokingly. He grinned at her, and she grimaced back apologetically.

"I'm really sorry, Barty," she admitted guiltily. "I do like you a lot, and I think maybe under different circumstances we could've maybe tried something, but-"

"But I'm not Lupin," he finished kindly.

Rowan felt her stomach twist at the thought of Remus. She was suddenly reminded of how wrong this entire situation was. His gaze softened.

"It's okay, Rowan," he said kindly. "I'd be an idiot to not to notice. I'm not bitter or anything."

Rowan frowned and held his gaze. She felt slightly confused as she sorted out her thoughts.

"But I have to warn you," he said more seriously. Rowan bristled at his tone. "My father isn't like yours - he doesn't care about honor or anything so virtuous. He'll listen to what you have to say, but that doesn't mean he'll go through with it. If he thinks making a deal with Karkaroff will get him good information, then he'll do it. I don't want you getting your hopes up only to see him go back on his word. You might not come out of this with anything to show for it."

Rowan grimaced. "Yeah, I know," she said sullenly, "but it's better than nothing, isn't it? At least this way I'll know that he's actually heard my concerns. It's better than just sitting around and waiting." He assessed her quietly and nodded.

"So where does that leave us then?" she asked carefully.

Barty shrugged and played with his teacup idly. "I don't mind continuing the act for now. It's suiting both of us well enough, and I genuinely enjoy your company. I also have to admit that there are certainly perks to having a beautiful woman on my arm as well," he said cheekily.

Rowan laughed heartily, feeling incredibly relieved. A weight was suddenly lifted, and she felt ten times lighter. She smiled at Barty gratefully, who grinned back.

"So do you want to go through this?" he asked warmly. He extended a hand. "Be my fake girlfriend?" he asked cheekily.

It all seemed too good to be true. She laughed again and grasped his hand in both of hers. "Yes, defini-"

Suddenly there was a loud crash of broken china and a flurry of limbs. Rowan and Barty's attention jerked towards the café, and, through the window, they saw a certain dark-haired man with coffee dripping over his head and a very panicked waitress rushing around him with napkins and wand waving, sputtering nervous apologies.

"You have to be kidding me," she breathed, feeling murderous.

There at an indoor table were seated the four Marauders, all gaping at her like deer in headlights. Sirius Black's hair and shirt were dripping with brown liquid. He looked mortified. Her anger surged forward, up her spine and into her throat. She felt herself move to stand with the fire shooting through her legs, but before she could, a hand covered hers. She looked across and saw Barty looking at her sympathetically.

"Why don't we go to the Leaky Cauldron instead? Your friends seem to need some explanations," he said softly. She felt her anger bubble still, but nodded her head before she could make a spectacle of herself. She turned on the four men inside with barely controlled rage.

"Come on, you shitheads!" she called angrily. "We're going to the Leaky Cauldron!"

* * *

><p>The Marauders all stared disbelievingly at Rowan and Barty as they finished recounting their agreement. Rowan thought it would have been humorous under different circumstances, but she still felt angry with the four men for spying on her. She was particularly surprised at Remus, who had seemingly been very understanding. Seeing him with the other three proved that he had, in fact, still not trusted her. She wasn't sure if she should be angry at their blatant disrespect for her and Barty or flattered that they cared so much to go to the trouble.<p>

"So… it's fake? All of this?" James said slowly.

Rowan groaned with exasperation and took an unladylike swig from her butterbeer to prevent herself from hitting him. How thick could he possibly be? She'd explained all of it very clearly, point by point. She couldn't understand how it was so difficult for him to understand. Her stomach growled. Damn the Marauders for interrupting her lunch date!

"I still don't really see how _you're _benefitting from all of this," Sirius bit out at Barty, glaring him down. Barty looked unperturbed, but Rowan felt angry on his behalf. "I mean, Rowan is getting her master's murderer into prison, but what do you get – less heckling from dear old daddy? Hardly seems fair," he said suspiciously.

Barty shook his head. "It's really much more than that. I mean, you're a Black – you know how much pressure it is for a pureblood lineage son to marry well. It's all my damn father ever talks about," he said bitterly. Rowan saw anger flit across his face and realized morosely that maybe they had more in common than she'd originally thought.

"I know it's hard to trust me because I was in Slytherin and all, but really, I couldn't care less about house reputations and the like," Barty continued. He smiled thinly.

"Also," he continued. His expression suddenly contorted, and Rowan was taken aback by the ferocity in his features. The rage there seemed unnatural, twisting his face strangely with anger. "If my stupid father does listen to Rowan, I'll get to see Karkaroff put into prison. If there's anything I detest, it's cowardly Death Eaters who try to get out of their just desserts by ratting out other Death Eaters. It makes me _sick_ knowing that he could get out of a conviction."

As he spoke, Rowan could almost see the venom dripping from his lips and for a moment felt slightly afraid. He didn't look anything like the gentleman that she'd conversed with in the sunlight. His features suddenly looked quite menacing. It was dark and sinister. The cold fear she felt in the middle of the night crept up her spine.

But then suddenly it was gone, and her engaging companion was back. It was as though it had all been in her head. But she couldn't have imagined it… right?

But the Marauders didn't seem perturbed at all – James, Sirius, and Peter seemed quite convinced, actually. They were all nodding fiercely at his indignation towards Death Eaters in agreement. Rowan looked around at them. Had they not seen the darkness there?

She turned to Remus, and across his face was etched a frown. He seemed to be sizing up the other man, eyes scanning over his appearance with scrutiny. Finally, he noticed that Rowan was staring at him. She jerked slightly at being caught, but he smiled gently, a little sheepishly. She suddenly felt very safe and warm.

"Rowan," Barty called. She turned to see him looking at her with light concern and warmth. There was no sign of any of anger there – she must have just imagined it. "Do you still want to go through with this?" he asked.

She forced her gaze to remain on him, consciously making an effort to not look at Remus. "Yeah," she said smiling. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

><p>As Rowan and the Marauders waved goodbye to Barty Crouch outside of the Leaky Cauldron, she watched him smile and Disapparate on the spot. She felt slightly comforted at the sight of his friendly face. When she knew that he was gone, she turned on the remaining four men and glowered. They cowered under her intensity.<p>

"Don't think for a minute that I've forgiven you lot for this mess," she threatened quietly. "You nearly fucked up a golden opportunity for me. You are so _fucking _lucky that Barty was understanding about all of this, or I don't know if I'd ever be able to forgive you." Her anger was bubbling hotly again, but she willed it down.

"Winnie, we're really sorry, but you have to understand," Sirius reasoned weakly. "We were just worried about you! Please, you have to know that it's because we care about you!"

The rest nodded rapidly in agreement, and she felt her blood cool to a simmer, but she was still dangerously angry. She couldn't find the words to express her rage fully.

"Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind. I don't want to see any of your faces until our weekly, got me?" she commanded. Peter, James, and Sirius nodded quickly. She glared at them one more time before turning on her heel and quickly starting down the busy street in the direction of her flat.

She knew that Remus had followed, however, and knew with growing frustration that she wouldn't be able to shake him off until she heard him out. Finally, he caught up to her but remained silent for a few minutes, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"What?" she bit out at him, turning on him suddenly and stopping.

He flinched slightly at her tone and then looked at her apologetically. He didn't answer for a moment, and her anger rose to her throat again. She was about to storm off and leave him there when he finally spoke.

"I really am sorry, Winnie," he said quietly. "I just…" he trailed off, looking around him as if the words would appear out of thin air. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously. The sun glinted off of the strands of gray. He then looked at her with a pained look. It made her chest constrict.

"I still love you," he declared.

The bluntness of his statement knocked the wind out of her. She stared at him dumbly, and he grimaced. The sun suddenly felt much hotter.

"I can't help it," he said softly. "And I guess seeing you with someone else, even if it was an act… It was harder than I'd expected. And it made me realize that the next time it happens, it'll be real, and I fucking hate it," he said bitterly.

Rowan looked at him sadly, her breath catching in her chest. She wanted to reach out to him, but it felt inappropriate. They'd drawn a line that shouldn't be crossed. Hadn't today emphasized that?

"I know," Rowan said quietly. "I still love you too. I probably always will," she admitted. His grimace deepened with his despair.

"But I know why you can't be with me, and even if I think it's total rubbish, I realize now that there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise," she said quietly. The ache still lingered, but she gathered her courage.

"A part of me get so angry," she said bitterly. "A part of me doesn't think you have the right to get jealous when _you_ were the one who left _me._" His face contorted with guilt, and she felt bad momentarily, but it was the truth. "But I understand - at least as well as anyone can I guess.

"But I've decided that I can't wait for you forever," she said firmly.

She looked at him hard. It seemed as if would dissolve away at any moment with hurt, and though her chest twisted painfully, she willed herself to continue.

"I will never get over you – that much is clear to me. And you will _always_ be my best friend and welcome to share in my life, but if I don't owe it to myself, I at least owe it to my father to try to be happy," she said. Her voice shook, and she hated herself for her weakness, but she stood strong and didn't break her gaze from his.

"I don't think I have it in me to try anytime soon," she admitted sadly. "But one day, I'll realize that I'm through with waiting for you to finally see that I'm worth taking a risk and that I need to move on, and even if my relationship with Barty is a farce, I think it'll help prepare me for that day."

Remus' face contorted with guilt and grief, lips twitching with effort, and she had to force herself to not regret her words. They were true, after all, and even if she hated that she'd been pushed to this point, she was determined to make the most out of her life, whether he wanted to be a part of it or not. Hadn't she been more than patient, more than understanding? Hadn't she been lonely and waiting long enough?

Finally, his expression settled into a sad smile. "I understand," he said quietly.

She felt a sharp pang of grief shoot through her. She knew it was the height of foolishness, but a part of her had still hoped that he'd object to her declaration of independence, that he'd realize that he couldn't stand the thought of her being with anyone else. But it was very clear now how set he was in his decision, and she had to force the stinging heat at the back of her throat down. She forced a weak smile and continued walking. He followed. They didn't speak for the rest of the way back to her flat.

When they arrived, she pulled out her key and looked at him hesitantly. She'd arrived home, but he still remained standing there with her. She didn't know what to do or say. Was he expecting to come in with her?

He was gazing down at her with furrowed brows and a twisted mouth, and she felt herself burn under his scrutiny.

Finally, he reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The sensitive skin of her ear burned. He smiled gently.

"I know how much you hate it, but it was nice seeing you in a dress today," he said softly, teasingly.

She grimaced slightly. "Oh Merlin, I can't wait to take this bloody thing off and wipe the paint off my face," she groaned.

He grinned lightly at her reaction and looked at her fondly, and though her chest still ached painfully, she smiled up at him. They shared a moment of silence before he spoke again.

"Better get inside and change then. And be sure to let me know if you're planning on going out at night, okay?" he said softly.

Rowan nodded. "I will," she promised before opening the door. She opened it and moved inside but looked back again. He stood there still gazing at her warmly with a tinge of sadness, and she had to bite back the tears that suddenly threatened to emerge. She wanted to beat herself for being so emotional around him still.

"Well then… Bye, Remus," she said softly.

He nodded. "Goodbye, Winnie."

* * *

><p>A large dark snake dragged slowly across a long ebony wood table within a dark hall – a red tongue poking from a thick tendril of smoke and ink. Her master sat at the head, white skin glowing in the faint light against the darkness of his robes. He gazed tenderly at his pet, eyes meeting hers. The sound of slow footsteps met the stillness of the room, matching their rhythm to the snake's slow pull.<p>

As the snake approached the dark figure, he held out a long-fingered hand, and she slithered her way up his arm, wrapping her thick body around the back of the chair and over his shoulders.

"How was your day, my boy?"

The dark wizard's voice caressed the stillness smoothly. It secreted out in a high tone, almost saccharinely.

The footsteps stilled as the tall, slender young man approached his master. His straw-colored hair glimmered in the faint evening light that spilled in from the high windows. He smiled.

"Quite excellent, my Lord. I had a wonderful lunch date with a young woman this afternoon – the Delacroix girl," he said, grinning.

The pale wizard's eyes glinted. He smiled, a slow pull of pale lips across yellow teeth.

"Really?" he drawled with amusement. "Interesting... Quite the impressive family, the Delacroixs... Pity about her father. He was such a _great_ man." He grinned leeringly. "Do you plan on seeing her again?" he inquired curiously.

"Oh yes," the young man answered cheerily. "We have a lot in common I think. I also had the good fortune of meeting some of her friends today. It had been a while since I'd last seen James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew," he listed carefully.

The yellow grin broadened.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Pettigrew. I've heard good things about him from a certain friend recently. I do so hope to meet him sometime in the near future. Will you be introducing me to your lady friend as well?" he asked.

"I do hope so," the young wizard answered, fire flickering in his brown eyes. "She's quite the spirited one. I think you'll like her."

He nodded and smiled wryly. "Be careful of beautiful women, my lad. They can be quite deceptive, you know," he said. The young man laughed.

The dark wizard brought his hands together thoughtfully, long fingers dancing amongst themselves. He smiled again.

"Well then, we'd better start planning. It would be _so_ embarrassing to be ill-prepared as hosts," he said.

His servant smiled.

"Anything you desire, my Lord."


	27. Of Weakness That Eats the Heart

**A/N**: I'm interested in flower symbolism. _Hint._

Also, I know that David Tennant plays Barty Crouch in the movies, and he's one hell of an actor, but I can't help but think of the beloved Tenth Doctor when I picture him in my mind. It makes it hard to imagine him as an antagonist because I love him so much… T-T

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27: Of Weakness That Eats the Heart<strong>

Peter stood in the private Gringotts Wizarding Bank treasure vault. It was a vast, windowless hall with high ceilings, extending for a great distance from the bottom of a grand staircase. All around him was an assortment of rare and wondrous artifacts, ranging from towering statues of jade to silver cages of invisible singing birds. It was a treasure hunter's wonderland.

However, Peter had his eyes set on only one thing: a tall mirror set in bronze, which stood in the middle of the vault.

Peter stood in front of the mirror, gazing into it with deep rapture. He had been there several times now. He had found no indications of it possessing any curses or protective charms, but every time he saw it, he found himself needing to come back again, and when he was elsewhere, the memory of his reflection haunted his every thought.

But it wasn't his reflection.

The first time he'd gazed into the mirror, he'd jumped with fear, taken off guard by the figure staring back at him. When he realized that the figure was in fact _him_ and not a sudden stranger, he felt his blood run cold, shame suddenly swelling in his chest. He'd spun around wildly to see if there was anyone behind him, to ensure that no one else could see what was reflected there.

The man he saw in the mirror was tall, slender, and handsome. He stood with squared shoulders and a raised chin, which seemed much more chiseled, more square than his own round features. But as he raised his hands to touch his face, he saw his reflection raise its hand as well. Beneath his fingers, he felt the roundness of his own face, the softness there, but in his reflection, he saw his hands meet carved features, rugged jaw and cheek. As he watched this phantom follow his every movement, he could almost believe that it was really him.

But then he looked down and saw that he was still very round, still soft and unimpressive, and a desperate ache suddenly shot through him. He looked frantically back at the mirror. A chaotic mixture of relief and despair swirled in his chest at seeing that the handsome man still stared back at him. Even the reflection's posture and movements were more impressive than his own.

Why was it showing this to him? Did this mirror simply torment its viewer with the one thing he could never have?

"It's haunting, isn't it?"

He spun around wildly and saw a beautiful woman standing at the top of the stairs. She wore luxurious silks in deep gem tones, which seemed to drip from her lithe form. Her full lips were stretched into a knowing smile, set against pale skin and thick waves of dark hair. Peter's face burned. Under her warm gaze, he felt infinitely shabbier than before.

"M-Ms. Eripice! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you were there!" he squeaked weakly.

She smiled at him but didn't respond and floated down the stairs, holding his gaze. He felt so small, like her gaze might consume him. He couldn't seem to find his voice.

"I see you've taken a liking to the Mirror of Erised," she said smugly as she approached him. Her hips swayed as she walked, and he had to force his eyes to remain on her face.

"Y-yes, it's fascinating! You've truly found a great treasure this time, ma'am," he squeaked. Her eyes burned into him.

"Please, Peter, it's Eris. There's no need for such formalities with me," she said softly. She raised a pale, graceful hand to his arm and ran it slowly down. It burned through his robes. He shivered.

"What do you see?" she asked softly.

His eyes widened. "In the mirror?" he asked disbelievingly. "You mean… You can't see it?" he breathed. He felt his tension lessen slightly, but the coil in his stomach was still wound tightly.

She smiled and looked at the mirror. He kept his gaze on her. He couldn't bring himself to look back at the handsome man there. She would be able to read his face, see his shamelessness.

"No, the viewer can only see themselves there. One cannot see what another sees," she said softly, eyes scanning over the mirror calmly. A flicker of heat ran across her face, and Peter felt that pull towards her again. Her lips were stained red against her smooth skin. He wanted to reach forward and touch it.

"What does it do?" he asked, soft awe in his voice.

She smiled but remained gazing at the mirror.

"It shows the user his greatest desire," she said softly. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her expression held the look of a quietly passionate lover, and he suddenly wanted her to turn and look at him.

"What do you see?" he asked. _Who?_ As soon as the question left his mouth, he felt embarrassed. His face burned.

But she turned, and he saw that heavy look in her eyes. The heat rushed to his face. Her eyes were warm, and for a moment, his mind thought of Rowan and the burning look on her face as she'd gazed at him that cold night in February.

She ran her eyes slowly, painfully, scraping down his form, and he felt as if every inch of his body was exposed to her. His neck was scalding, and he couldn't breathe. When she met his gaze again, she smiled slowly, a lustful tug at the corner of her red lips. He felt an ache shoot through him as she reached forward and grasped his hand with her own. Her fingers were warm against his. Her heat seared into his blood.

She pulled him forward slowly so that he stood in front of her before the mirror but kept her eyes on his. He felt her press her form softly into his back and her warm breath on his neck. Her fingers trailed down his chest, nails scraping gently. He had to suppress a shiver. Her eyes burned into him, flickering down to his mouth. He licked his lips nervously and trembled. Her face was so close to his, so strangely familiar.

"What do you see in the mirror?" she whispered. Her words grazed his lips, and his breath came out in short pants. He felt her fingers slowly press into his neck, guiding his head gently to turn and face his reflection.

His breath completely left him. The air was squeezed from his lungs, coming out in a spurt of wind and gasps.

The handsome man from before stood there, and draped over his shoulders was a pair graceful pale arms. But from behind him burned glowing amber eyes.

Rowan.

Peter couldn't breathe. Rowan smiled at him from the mirror, bright and full of heat. He saw and felt her hands tangle in his hair and across his chest. A whimper tore from his throat. She laughed breathily against his neck - the soft chiming of a bell. He shivered.

"Peter," she whispered.

As he saw his name fall from her lips, her gaze scorched him to the core. His hands trembled at his sides.

Then he felt the grip in his hair tighten gently, his head tilting back, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Rowan's gaze. She held it, rising up and leaning forward. Her eyes burned into muscles and bones, like firewhiskey and warm honey, and as her lips met his, all he could hear was the sound of his own rushing heart.

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful yellow day in London. A soft melancholy melody wound slowly around a brownstone apartment building, and several people slowed to hear it as they walked past. A handsome young man with straw-colored hair stood on its front stoop, a bouquet of brightly colored begonias in his hand. He closed his eyes and listened to the sweet sounds of the violin for a moment, breathing in the warm May sun. It certainly was a wonderful day to be alive. He smiled softly to himself before scrolling down the list of residents and ringing the button next to the name "Delacroix."<p>

* * *

><p>At the sharp knock at her door, Rowan finished placing her violin carefully into its case, though her bow remained in her left hand. She hurried to open the door and saw Barty Crouch standing there, a bright smile and a bouquet of flowers hanging at his side from his fingers. She smiled warmly and stood aside to let him in.<p>

"This is a surprise. I certainly wasn't expecting company," Rowan said warmly.

He gazed around her apartment as he removed his shoes, flowers tucked under his arm.

"I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hello," he said kindly. As he popped the last shoe off, he turned and presented the bouquet to her with a smile.

"I saw these at the market on the way here, and I thought about you. You don't seem like the kind of girl who'd like the clichéd bouquet of roses though, so I opted for something a little more... unusual," he said.

She grinned, accepting the flowers. "Oh, these are beautiful. Thank you!" she said warmly. "And you're right about the roses. Very cliché."

She moved back to her violin case quickly to put away the bow and pack it up, placing the flowers gently on her table.

"Was that you playing?" he asked, clearly impressed. "That was beautiful. Everyone walking by was quite enchanted."

She blushed, feeling quite girlish for some reason. It'd been so long since someone complimented or flirted with her in such a way. Something about it was quite refreshing.

"Oh, stop," she chided, cheeks pink. She shut the case and moved it back to a shelf. "It's just something I've been trying to pick up again. It's been years since I last played. I'm very out of practice."

"It didn't sound like it," he said genuinely, taking a seat at her table as she moved towards the sink with the flowers. She ducked to pull a glass vase out from a cabinet. He looked around and saw various books on potion making, herbology, and protective charms open around the table. Notes were scattered messily. "Are you studying for your N.E.W.T.s again?" he asked teasingly.

She blew a raspberry at him, and he grinned roguishly. It reminded her of Remus.

"No, it's for some research I'm doing. I lost a lot of work in the fire at the apothecary, and I'm trying to recover it. It's taking quite a lot of time though. Please forgive the mess," she replied over the running water.

"Oh no, don't mind me. I did drop in unannounced after all," he said kindly. He watched her as she waved a wand over the flowers, trimming the stems and vanishing away the small discarded tips before placing them into the water.

"Hmm, there's something about fresh flowers that really brightens a room," she said warmly as she brought the vase over to the table. Barty smiled at her.

"So what brings you here?" she asked as she closed the books and pushed them to the side. She sat across from him. It was astounding how much more comfortable she felt, as opposed to the last time she'd seen him, which had been nearly disastrous. A flicker of annoyance shot through her at the memory of the Marauders' nosiness.

"Well, I had the day off and was just around the area," he said casually. "But I figured I'd drop by and see if you wanted to get dinner or something later this week." He smiled at her somewhat nervously.

A bit of uneasiness curled in her stomach. Was he sincerely asking her out? She mentally shook the thought from her head – of course not. Even if their "relationship" was a farce, they needed to at least make a show of it, and they could be friends, after all.

"Yeah, sure, I'm free all weekend," she said, smiling at him.

Relief seemed to spread across his features. "Excellent. How about Friday then? I'll make the reservations," he said happily. "And you don't need to wear a dress this time," he added cheekily.

She grinned sheepishly. "Am I really that bad at trying to look feminine?" she asked.

He laughed. It was a bright sound. "No, you actually look quite lovely all dolled up," he said. She blushed lightly. "But it doesn't take an IQ like Dumbledore's to notice how much you hate it," he said teasingly.

She laughed. "Okay, noted," she said grinning. "Thanks for being so considerate. I promise to look halfway decent though."

"I'm sure you could wear a pillow case and still look alluring," he said flirtatiously. Her face burned, but she laughed.

"Barty Crouch, when did you become such a flirt?" she asked teasingly.

He grinned. "You pick up a few things after graduation," he said cryptically.

"Sounds to me like you're doing more flirting than work at the Ministry," she said.

"You could say that," he replied. The grin broadened.

The two conversed easily for about an hour before he saw the clock and decided to excuse himself. After he pulled on his shoes, he turned to look at Rowan again.

"This has been fun," he said warmly. "We should just hang out more often. Dates can be so dreary, don't you think?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I agree. Feel free to drop by again sometime," she said.

He smiled softly at her before leaning forward and kissing her chastely on the cheek. As he pulled away, he smiled at the blush on her cheeks.

"Well then, I'll see you Friday," he said. There was a flicker of heat in his eyes that made Rowan's chest tighten.

"Till Friday," she replied quietly. He smiled again and turned, strolling down the stairs and out of the building.

As she closed the door, she leaned back against it and released a breath, the tension in her shoulders seeping out. It had been so long since anyone had flirted with her, even Remus. She had forgotten how exhilarating it could be.

She thought of Barty Crouch with his light hair and kind eyes. She admitted that she was more attracted to him now than she had been the last time she'd seen him. He had blatantly been flirting, and his kiss goodbye had thrilled her more than it should have. She reasoned that it was a very friendly, normal gesture, but the look in his eyes reminded her of the more heated gazes Remus used to shoot her way. There was no denying that he wasn't completely opposed to the idea of being a little more than friendly with her, though she couldn't be sure what _she_ wanted exactly.

Could she attempt a physical relationship with him? She knew she was incapable of emotionally committing to anyone besides Remus, at least not yet, but the thought of having a casual relationship with this man wasn't totally unappealing. However, she was unsure if she could separate the two aspects. She'd often admired Mina's ability to casually date boys in school and take what they had to offer physically without becoming invested emotionally – could she do that as well?

She groaned internally. It didn't matter right now anyway. They'd barely even begun their charade of dating – there was no point in worrying about it so early in the game.


	28. Of Memory's Melody

**A/N**: Are you all still there...? *shivers in the howling wind*

**sarahmichellegellarfan1: **It seems that you will always be my solid reviewing companion throughout the story... Thank you for always being there to throw me a few words of encouragement in the silence T-T

**misslak:** Sorry for the wait! Rowan will definitely not end up [permanently] with an OC, so no worries. This is and always will be a Remus x Rowan fic. I mean, don't all the best love stories involve a shit ton of longing and angst? [at least in stories. Maybe not in real life] Thank you for the reviews!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28: Of Memory's Melody<strong>

When Rowan confided in her girl friends about her growing relationship with Barty, Mina had been very suspicious. Being an Auror, she also worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she'd recently had a case for which she'd been required to work with him. It had left her feeling uneasy.

"Something about him just rubs me the wrong way. I know he seems like a nice guy, but I think he's much more like his father than he lets on," she said to Rowan seriously. "Just be careful with him, okay?" she warned. Rowan was unsure of how to feel about it.

Though she took her friend's warnings to heart, she was feeling confident about her strange relationship with the young man. May surprisingly passed happily and brightly for Rowan. She went on a few casual dates with Barty, which had all been comfortable and fun, and he stopped by a couple more times at her flat, always with an offering of sweets or flowers. He was always a gentleman – he held doors and pulled out chairs and walked her home after their dates – but he made no move to do more than kiss her on the cheek goodnight. She felt very relieved.

She'd seen Barty Sr. twice since they'd begun their charade. She'd stopped by the Ministry to meet Barty Jr. for lunch and exchanged some words with his father both times, and he'd looked extremely pleased at the sight of them together. He suggested that he was working hard on Karkaroff's case, implying that he was taking a hard stance and eyeing her with a piercing look, and it renewed Rowan's determination in continuing her act.

Though the Marauders all understood her reasons for seeing Barty, they still weren't entirely pleased about it. James and Sirius still interrogated her after every date, and the guilt and hurt she felt when facing Remus was immense. He never brought up their conversation about her moving on again, and though she'd meant everything she'd said, she still ached painfully at the sight of his longing looks. She wondered if it would be better for either of them to distance herself or try to spend more time with him to compensate.

But they'd continued their friendship, and he still insisted on walking her home at night, regardless of what time it was. She tried to avoid talking about Barty around him, and though they resumed a level of comfort around each other, her thoughts of the other man made her feel wistful and increasingly unsatisfied with her relationship with Remus.

She knew it was wrong to compare the two, but where Remus was distant and awkward with her, Barty was bright and engaging. She had forgotten what it was like to have a man show so much interest in her, and though she knew her relationship with Remus was much deeper than any casual flirtations, even in the last days of their relationship, he had barely even been able to smile at her genuinely, let alone make her laugh. When was the last time they'd really shared a happy moment together?

Peter had been suspiciously missing as of late. Mina and Sirius whispered to Rowan conspiratorially about a woman he'd met at work and had been seeing, a treasure hunter named Eris Eripice. They'd run into them at dinner once and said that she was very beautiful – a dark-haired beauty. Mina mentioned with some discomfort [Rowan noted it for later] that she looked slightly like Rowan, which Sirius found amusing. He joked that perhaps Peter fancied Rowan as well. Rowan laughed it off with mirth. After all, it was utterly ridiculous to think that Peter would ever look at her like that, right?

* * *

><p>Rowan sat in the basement of Delacroix Manor, leaning back in her chair dangerously with her eyes squeezed shut. Formulas and numbers ran through her mind quickly. Her hair was tied messily in a thick mass on top of her head. A series of books were scattered across the table, and in front of her was the sleek gray quill Remus had given her for her seventeenth birthday and a practice test of sorts.<p>

She couldn't get research grants or access to lycanthropic mice without a Potioneer's license, and although she'd been studying under Belby for nearly two years when he'd died, her memory was hazy. Instead of undergoing a typical apprenticeship with her master making her brew and research a wide array of draughts, she'd spent nearly all of her time working in a very specialized field. Though she often refilled any of the apothecary's stocks with her own potions since Belby had little patience for anything beyond his own research, she was still out of practice when it came to her theory knowledge.

She'd bought a series of licensing exam prep books, and though she was speeding through them with relative ease, there were still times when she'd hit a wall and realize that she'd forgotten much more than she'd thought. This was one of those moments.

Suddenly, she heard the door to the basement open, and steady footsteps down the stairs followed. A twinge of annoyance hit her, and she covered her ears from the noise, desperately scouring her mind for the answer to the practice test question in front of her. Her eyes remained squeezed shut as she balanced precariously on the back two feet of the chair.

She knew that the person who had entered stood next to her, but she kept her eyes and ears screwed shut. Her own voice recited loudly through her mind, but she kept coming up short. Finally, she opened her eyes with great frustration and saw that it wasn't her mother or Alfred, but in fact Remus standing next to her with a confused expression on his face.

Surprise hit her with blood rushing to her face, and suddenly she felt herself tipping backwards. Panic settled into her quickly as she felt her feet leave the edge of her desk, and her field of vision quickly flipped. She let out a panicked cry as her chair tipped and fell, and she spilled onto the floor with a loud crash.

Rowan's ears were filled with laughter as she groaned. She opened her eyes somewhat painfully to see Remus peering down at her with his eyes shining with great mirth at her lack of grace. She glared up at him, but he just continued laughing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he gasped. "I just can't believe that just happened!"

She wanted to feel annoyed at him for laughing at her, but the sight of him suddenly so happy threatened to force a smile to her face – how long had it been since she'd seen him laugh so wholeheartedly?

She rolled out of her chair onto her hands and knees and struggled to her feet with a groan. She noted that she'd have a bruise on her elbow soon.

"Hey, are you okay?" Remus asked, the remnants of laughter still stretched across his face. His eyes danced amusedly, and she couldn't help but smile sheepishly back.

"Yeah," she admitted somewhat embarrassedly. "I thought you were Alfred – took me off guard."

He grinned. "Sorry about that. What were you doing anyway?" he asked, stooping down to pick her chair back up.

"I'm studying for my P.A.T.s," she replied, moving back to the desk and closing her book.

"Your what?" Remus asked. His face screwed up with confusion.

She grinned. "My Potioneers Accreditation Test," she clarified. "I can't get any research grants until I get licensed as a registered Potioneer, and then I'll need to take the Master of Potions Exam, or M.o.P.E.s, after to become a Potions Master, though that probably won't happen for another couple of years at least."

Remus looked at her thoughtfully. "I see," he said. "Do you think the Ministry names every exam something ridiculous on purpose?" he asked.

She grinned. "Probably. I bet there's some drunk bloke at the Ministry right now naming some herbologist exam something absurd like H.E.R.P.s. They must come up with the acronyms prior to the test name," she said.

They snickered softly before Rowan looked at him, realizing again how odd his presence was.

"What're you doing here?" she asked.

He smiled softly at her. "I realized that we haven't really hung out recently and thought maybe you'd want to just… well, hang out," he said. There was a tinge of nervousness there, and she felt a wave of warmth wash over her. She smiled.

"Yeah, sure. We can head back to my flat if you want. It's a little stuffy here," she offered.

He smiled. "Sure."

* * *

><p>Rowan stepped into her apartment with Remus behind her feeling slightly nervous. He hadn't been there for some weeks, as he usually left as soon as she was safe inside. She noted with a twinge of sadness that her most frequent male guest as of late had been Barty. For some reason, she felt guilty, as if she had been cheating, though she couldn't be sure on whom or with whom.<p>

The warm June sun spilled into her flat, reflecting off her wooden floors and violin, which she realized that she'd left out on her table before leaving for her family's manor. She moved quickly to put it away as Remus removed his shoes.

"So you did decide to start playing again," he said, eyeing the instrument.

Rowan nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, it's been helping me relax," she said, opening up the case and reaching for her bow. Remus sat down at the table.

"Didn't you promise to play for me?" he asked teasingly.

Rowan glanced over at him and blushed. "Yeah, I suppose so," she said bashfully. She'd had every intention of following through with that, but she suddenly felt very embarrassed.

"Well, play me something then," he said cheekily, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.

Rowan's face burned slightly. "But I'm out of practice," she blurted. "You don't want to hear me play now!"

"Oh, come on, Winnie. I'm sure you're just being modest," he encouraged her. "_Please!_"

She shifted uneasily, staring at the violin in her hands. She wasn't sure why she felt so uncomfortable playing for Remus suddenly. It seemed strangely intimate. But as she looked at his pleading face, she knew she couldn't argue. She sighed resignedly and picked it up.

Remus grinned goofily at her, and she smiled awkwardly as she set the instrument on her shoulder, grasping it with her chin. She ran her hand up the neck and set the bow on the strings lightly. The sun glinted off of the polished wood prettily. She took a deep breath.

She started with a long pull of her bow – a sweet, resounding note – before setting into a slow, melancholy melody, the same she'd been playing when Barty had first arrived on her doorstep in May. It had been her father's favorite, a surprisingly sweet preference for the typically fierce man. Indeed, she'd been inspired to pick the instrument back up again because of his passing, feeling as if perhaps she could hold onto a piece of him as she played.

She had many memories of standing in front of the fireplace of the drawing room as a little girl, performing the same song for Richard and his colleagues. When her mother had insisted on her taking lessons, she'd initially disliked them despite loving the music – sitting in a room for long periods of time with her stuffy tutors had been exhausting when all she'd wanted to do was climb trees and roll in the dirt. But when she saw how much it pleased her parents, how her father would glow with pride, she'd accepted them resignedly. She had to admit that she had a natural talent for it, and though she'd abandoned it after leaving for Hogwarts, she found that it all came back easily with every stroke of her bow.

Her fingers pressed against the strings instinctively. Every muscle in her arms and hands knew the song by heart, even after all the years of disuse. She didn't have to watch her fingers as they moved – she simply knew that after the high flat E came the shift to the deep, resounding D, and as her hand slid up the neck, her last finger automatically extended to graze the harmonic – a sad and haunting goodbye.

The note resonated throughout the room, within her chest. Rowan opened her eyes and saw the summer sun glinting off the swell of the warm polished wood. It was like her final note had evaporated into light. A bittersweet ache rippled through her softly.

She held the violin tenderly for a moment before slowly removing it from her shoulder. She glanced tentatively at Remus.

He was leaning forward with his elbows on the table, hands grasped together, looking at her with a fiery intensity. His mouth was pulled into a taut line, and his eyes burned into her. He hadn't looked at her with so much heat for a long time. Her chest tightened almost painfully.

"Beautiful," he said quietly. Heavy admiration laced through his voice.

Her lips twitched into a small smile, cheeks burning red again, but didn't respond as she turned to place the violin back into the case. She couldn't bear to see him look at her like that for long. She didn't trust her own voice. As she loosened the hairs in the bow, he spoke again.

"How long did you play before you quit your lessons?" he asked.

"Almost seven years," she answered, locking the bow into the case. "My mother insisted that I start taking lessons very young, but I abandoned it after leaving for school. This is a new violin actually since my old one was for a child." She closed the case and moved towards the shelf.

Remus nodded and gazed at her thoughtfully as she moved towards the kitchen counter after placing the case in its proper place. She began pulling out her tea set, reaching around the cabinets quietly.

"That song seemed significant to you," he noted softly.

Rowan's movements slowed, holding the teapot in her hands gently. She gazed at the intricate gray patterns stained into its surface.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "It was my father's favorite. I used to play it for him all the time when I was a little girl. I didn't see him often – he was always busy with work - but he never passed up an opportunity to hear me play." She smiled sadly at the memory.

Richard's proud gaze burned into her mind, and she had to push the tears back that threatened to break through - she would never see him look at her that way again. She hadn't cried for weeks over her father's death, and certainly not without the comfort of night. Her head pounded with embarrassment as she blinked the heat from her eyes quickly. Why was it that she could never keep herself together while with Remus?

Then she felt a hand on hers, gently guiding the teapot from her grasp and settling it on the counter. It gripped her arm and turned her slowly. She looked at Remus' chest and couldn't bring her eyes upward to his face.

He wore a clean white shirt that seemed to glow with the light. A long scar poked up from beneath it and over his collarbone, and she wanted to press her lips against it as she used to do so frequently. She wanted to do so many things that she couldn't anymore, like tangle her fingers in his hair or wrap her arms around his waist. Hell, she wanted to be able to just _look _at him without feeling dirty. The sadness she'd been trying to quell suddenly surged to her throat again, and she had to bite it down bitterly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Her eyes shot to his face. He was looking down at her with a pained expression. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"I shouldn't have made you play. I didn't realize-" he said apologized quietly, but she cut him off.

"No," she said firmly. Something about his voice sparked the fire back in her, and she felt her sorrow slip away slowly. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who chose the song, and I'm glad you heard it." She smiled genuinely, and his face seemed to melt with relief. "Besides, what's the use of playing if one doesn't have someone to listen?"

He smiled warmly, and she wanted to disappear into it. His hands still held her arms gently. He leaned forward slowly and kissed her hair gently.

Though her face felt warm, she closed her eyes and savored the pressure of his lips against her. Logically, she knew she should feel uneasy, but no matter how she reasoned, it felt comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. She breathed deeply.

When he pulled away, she felt strangely light. He smiled at her gently, and she couldn't help but smile back. His grip on her fell away, and he looked down the counter with an indiscernible expression. She followed his gaze and saw that they were looking at a bright bunch of purple blossoms that stood in a clear vase.

"Monkshood," she clarified. Remus' mouth tightened.

"Did Barty give those to you?" he asked quietly, still gazing at the flowers.

She felt herself falter for a moment, guilt creeping into her throat before pushing it away. What did she need to feel ashamed about?

"Yes," she answered carefully. "He sometimes brings me flowers. He thinks it's funny seeing me with them since I'm such a tomboy." She turned back to her teapot to keep her hands busy. For some reason, she felt anxious with Remus looking at the vase.

Remus didn't say anything for a while, but just stood behind her as she boiled water on the stove. She could feel his gaze on her but refused to turn back around. She wasn't sure if she wanted to read the thoughts on his face.

After she'd poured the water into the teapot with the leaves, she turned and saw Remus looking down at her earnestly. There was that quietly intense look again, but it was gentler. There was no anger there, as she'd almost expected. She saw a slight sorrow but it was mostly warm. He smiled, and something bloomed in her happily. She smiled back.

"Can you grab the milk and sugar?" she asked brightly. His eyes crinkled fondly at her before turning towards the cabinets, allowing her to carry the teapot over to the table. A couple of teacups and saucers floated behind her. As they settled onto the table with a light clinking, they glinted in the sunlight. The last note of her father's favorite song rang in her chest, though it no longer felt bittersweet. She smiled at the sound.


	29. Of Twenty Years & Twenty More

**A/N**: These recent chapters have been pretty light, right? I'm afraid that it'll probably start getting a little darker again soon. This one is happy and sweet though.

I've decided that the best part about writing this story is going through the viewership demographics and seeing where all of you come from [I'm from the US]. It blows my mind how far-reaching this site is. There are some of you reading in countries like Bulgaria and Indonesia and Pakistan and so many more, and I can't express how awed and happy I am to be able to communicate with so many diverse people through such a humble platform. Thank you for reading and for sharing in my story with me. Sending you all happy thoughts and well wishes from across the globe!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29: Of Twenty Years and Twenty More<strong>

June passed into July peacefully. The Order's missions had been going well, and Rowan felt like they were finally gaining some momentum against the Death Eaters. Her father's final retaliation had taken down five influential Death Eaters including Ruprecht Lestrange – the patriarch of the Lestrange family – and the Dark Lord's forces were noticeably weaker. The Order was in great spirits.

July arrived, and with it came Rowan's twentieth birthday. As she looked in the mirror, she noted that perhaps her face looked a little thinner, but she couldn't really see any noticeable differences. She thought petulantly that all of her friends still looked much older than she, but she supposed she should feel grateful – many women paid good money for youthful appearances, after all.

The Marauders insisted that they go out to celebrate. They gathered in the Hog's Head for a change since they'd recently discovered that the barman was Aberforth Dumbledore. He gave them a free round of excellent aged firewhiskey, which glowed prettily against the dim light of the grungy pub. She laughed at the redness of Remus' face as he threw back the liquor with a grimace and felt like her body might float away at any moment with happiness.

Her friendship with Remus had also been going well. In fact, it nearly felt as if they were fifteen again at Hogwarts, leaning on each other for support in the hard times and happily playing off each other in the good. She still tried to avoid talking about Barty with him, as he would still visibly tense at the mention of his name, but otherwise, she felt more comfortable with him than she had in nearly a year. She couldn't express how thankful she was to truly have him back in her life.

"Where's Wormy?" Sirius demanded loudly, banging his glass on the table. He had an arm draped over Mina's shoulders. She scowled lightly at his sudden volume.

"He was getting dinner with Eris I think," Remus answered. "But he should be here…" he trailed slowly, looking around the bar. His face lit up with surprise as his gaze fell on the entrance. They all turned.

There stood Peter, craning his neck around to look for the group. He had been looking much happier and more confident as of late. He almost seemed like a different person, but what was most unusual was the woman standing next to him, whom Rowan assumed was his new girlfriend Eris.

She was taller than him by a few inches at least, with pale skin and thick dark hair. Her lips whispered of sensuality, and her posture spoke of refinement. Rowan felt a chill crawl up her spine. She suddenly understood Mina's words from the month before – she _did_ look like her.

But she couldn't be sure what it was. Their features weren't necessarily the same - this woman's eyes were more cat-like, her nose slightly hooked - and the energies they exuded were completely different, but there was something in the woman's face that was eerily similar to her own. A heavy discomfort settled into her bones as she watched the pair approach the table. The mysterious woman clutched Peter's arm gracefully but somehow possessively, and he seemed to grow a few inches with pride at the looks of envy a few men at the bar shot his way. It was like looking into a strange alternate reality. Something in her skin crawled.

"Hey, guys!" Peter chirped happily. He pulled his companion forward gently. "Sorry I'm late. This is my girlfriend Eris!" He swelled with pride. He went down the line, introducing all of them. When he reached Rowan, she swore she saw a strange flicker in the other woman's eyes. She mustered as genuine of a smile as she could and shook her hand. Though warm, it felt lifeless. She suppressed a shiver.

Rowan turned to look at Remus's reaction. He was frowning at the new arrivals with a look of concentration, and Rowan felt relieved that she wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable. She grabbed his sleeve beneath the table, and he shot her a quick glance from the corner of his eye. _I know_.

The others all seemed delighted though. James slapped Peter on the back happily as he sat down after pulling out a seat for Eris. The two sat closely, her arm still wrapped around his possessively. Her long pale fingers seemed to circle his arm like spider legs wrapped in its web. She saw Peter reach up and brush a strand of hair from Eris' face, the woman smiling warmly at him, and Rowan felt an uneasy wave of nausea. His fingers were stubby and thick, set into massive palms. She suddenly didn't want to look at him.

But why? She'd never looked at Peter with anything but fondness, even if it was secondary to the other men. He had always seemed sweet and innocent, although a little dim, but as she watched him laugh with James and Sirius with this strange reflection of her draped on his arm, a cold and sickening chill crept from her stomach and up her spine. Was she the only one who was disturbed by this scene?

"Hey Winnie, where's Barty?" Lily called down the table.

Rowan's head turned jerkily to see her friend smiling at her. The others all turned and stared. She forced a smile.

"Oh, he had to work tonight. It's no big deal, really," she said casually. Though she wasn't facing him, she could see the discomfort on Remus' face.

James scowled lightly. "What? He should be here! You don't turn twenty everyday!" he said indignantly. She shrugged and smiled apologetically at him.

"Is Barty your boyfriend?" a silky voice asked.

Rowan turned quickly and saw Eris looking at her earnestly. As their gazes met, Rowan felt a heavy silence in her mind for a moment. Something about the woman's eyes glowed, but almost artificially. Her gut churned slightly.

"Something like that," she said. She hoped it sounded casual. Eris smiled. They held eye contact for a second longer before Eris tore her eyes away to look at Peter. He gazed at her fiercely with a heated smile. Rowan's skin crawled again.

She looked down the table and saw Mina looking at her intensely. Like Remus, she was frowning. The corner of her lips twitched with concentration, and Rowan could see the thoughts flitting across her face quickly. Rowan caught her eye, and they shared a dark look.

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening passed happily and loudly, despite the momentary interruption. The boys sang her the same screechy rendition of a happy birthday song that they had sung at Remus' birthday outing, and she cringed with a sheepish grin at the annoyed looks that the other patrons shot the table. Aberforth poured her liberal helpings of firewhiskey all night with a rough mussing of her hair, and by the time they all left Rowan was feeling quite tipsy.<p>

Outside of the Hog's Head, their friends all said their goodbyes and last wishes to Rowan of a happy birthday. As she hugged Mina, the brunette whispered in her ear, "Let's talk later." Rowan's drunkenness subsided for a brief moment as she nodded gravely to her friend.

After Apparating back onto her street, Rowan laced her arm through Remus', just like from their days at Hogwarts, and stumbled slightly as they walked, feeling giddy and warm. Even in the dark of night, the summer air was quite hot, and she thought to herself that she was going to strip down to her underwear as soon as she got inside. She couldn't help the silly smile on her face.

She heard a soft laugh and looked up to see Remus gazing down at her with an amused grin.

"What're you looking at, Lupin?" she asked, pouting.

"You're drunk," he said with great mirth.

She blew a raspberry at him. He laughed and pulled his arm from hers, draping it over her shoulders. She hummed cheerily and wrapped her arm around his waist. Her head sang with happiness though her legs kept knocking into his as they walked. She giggled at her own drunken clumsiness.

"Okay, birthday girl, you need to walk in a straight line, or that cute face of yours is going to end up in the cobblestone," he said smartly.

"You think I'm cute?" she asked cheekily. He glared at her playfully. "Well, I can't help it. My legs are just moving on their own at this point. Like _ge-la-tin_!" she sang.

Suddenly his hands were on her waist, and she felt the world flip upside down. His shoulder was then digging into her stomach with her legs flailing under his hands.

"Remus!" she squealed, laughing loudly into the empty street. It echoed between the buildings

"I'm not letting you drunkenly take me down with you, you prat. Stop fidgeting," he teased, walking the remaining distance to her building. She laughed happily as the world spun around her.

As they stood on her front stoop, she expected him to put her down, but he carefully pulled out his keys from his pocket and opened the door, carefully maneuvering them inside and towards the stairs.

"Merlin – have you gotten heavier since we graduated?" he huffed.

"Rude!" she shot back in annoyance. She pinched his side hard through his shirt, and he yelped in pain before swatting her on the butt. She squealed. "You never comment on a woman's weight! You're a jerk, Remus Lupin!" she shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, _I'm _the jerk," he muttered. "Keep your voice down, you drunkard. Other people live here too, you know."

She huffed petulantly but kept quiet, listening to his steady breathing as he climbed the stairs. When they finally made it into her flat, he put her down on top of the table gently. Her head swam from the sudden change in orientation. He grinned at her.

"You're a mess," he said fondly. She grinned sheepishly at him and squinted slightly. Her vision was blurred from the alcohol, and the dim light didn't help.

"Don't move, okay?" he said. She nodded slowly, swaying slightly, as he walked to her sink. She heard the clinking of glass and the sound of running water. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Even the _sound_ of him there felt right.

When he returned, she opened her eyes and saw him smiling amusedly at her. He carefully placed a glass of water in her hands.

"Drink up," he said. She nodded vaguely and downed the water slowly, relishing the coolness as it cascaded down her throat. When she finished, he looked satisfied and helped her down from the table.

"Can you get ready for bed by yourself or do you need help with that too?" he asked teasingly.

Rowan grinned but didn't respond. Instead, she held her arms over her head and turned her chin up at him expectantly with a cheeky smile.

He sighed exasperatedly but smiled, hauling her shirt over her head. She hummed pleasurably at the coolness of the night air on her bare skin and felt strangely unabashed at her nakedness. She saw his eyes darken for a moment at the sight of her, and she felt the old familiar ache. But despite the urge to touch him, she kept her arms down by her sides as he removed her shorts next.

But then he moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her form, his breath hitting her neck hotly and chest almost touching hers. She breathed shakily, and as she felt his fingers unhooking the clasp of her bra – rough fingers scraping her skin – the ache coiled. When he pulled away, his eyes made a final sweep over her form with a dark look, and she stood bare and shameless, wanting him to look at her. But then he turned to her wardrobe. She kicked herself mentally for her disappointment.

She longingly watched him open up the drawer with her tops and pulled out an old baggy t-shirt. He smiled softly – it was one of his. Her chest tightened.

"Up," he ordered. His deep voice resonated through the silence, into her bones. She raised her arms, and he slid the shirt down over her form, pulling her hair gently from the neckline. She shivered lightly as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Into bed," he said quietly, eyes burning into her. She nodded weakly and crawled under the covers. He tucked her in tenderly, sweeping her hair from her face with warm hands. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling before looking back up at him again.

The scars on his face seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her fingers tingled with the urge to reach up and touch him, but her limbs suddenly felt so heavy. Her bed suddenly felt so comfortable, like her body was melting into it.

"I'm twenty now," she breathed. She wasn't sure if it was to him or herself. He smiled softly.

"You are," he agreed. "How does it feel?"

Rowan thought for a moment, her eyes drooping slightly. "I'm not sure. Sad, maybe," she said. "It makes me afraid of the next twenty years for some reason." She gazed at him and paused. Twenty years with him in it - would she spend the next twenty without him?

"You didn't give me a present this year," she whispered. He smiled softly at her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "What would you like?"

She looked at him ardently, her thoughts rushing through her head. It was a stupid request, and she knew she'd regret it in the morning, but she couldn't hold back the words.

"Will you kiss me?" she whispered.

A low heat flickered across his face, but he didn't answer. He stared at her for a moment, the silence heavy between them. She could see the indecision dripping down his face, and she knew that if she'd been sober, she'd feel embarrassed for her lack of propriety.

But then he leaned forward slowly, and as she saw his jaw move upward over her brow, she closed her eyes. His lips pressed against her right brow. She felt his breath graze her skin softly, and then he moved to her cheekbone, where he pressed another soft kiss. She opened her eyes to look at him and saw the flecks of green in his gaze. They flickered downward, and her breath stopped. He moved slowly, and as his lips pressed against hers softly, the tightened coil in her chest released. The silence covered her hotly. He smelled of firewhiskey and sweat and home.

When he pulled away, it was slow, hesitant. She opened her eyes again and met his gaze. He smiled softly at her, and she wanted to see him with a pillow beneath his head, beside her and wrapped in cotton sheets.

"Happy birthday, Winnie," he whispered. She smiled gently.

"Thank you, Remus."


	30. Of the Masks We Wear

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait, but I've been really busy this past week. The tone is gonna shift again and get pretty dark, so I'm sorry in advance!

**misslak:** I really like the title "Queen of Anguish" haha - sounds like some band I would've listened to in middle school. The Peter x Eris x Rowan situation is gonna start coming into play soon heh. Also, I'm blown away that you like Rowan's character that much! It's seriously the highest form of compliment I could ever hope to receive! THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES OVER!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1: **Thanks for all the reviews, as always! You're the best! Sorry if you're bummed about the lack of sexiness, but there will be some eventually!

**S38: **Ehhhh I don't wanna give anything away, but I agree that Rowan isn't right for anyone except Remus. Also, you never have to apologize for cursing, as far as I'm concerned. I swear like a sailor haha.

**"Guest...?":** I don't know how to address you because you didn't sign your review! But thank you SO MUCH for reading my story! I'm also the type to not read fics unless they're completed, so I'm sorry if I tricked you haha. Lucky for you I tend to update pretty quickly, so I hope you stick with it! Thank you again! XD

On a side note: I made my BF watch _Totoro_ for the first time, and he came away from it feeling slightly depressed b/c it made him imagine what he'd do if I were ever hospitalized like Mei and Satsuki's mother. He immediately connected with the father character and viewed the rest of the movie from his POV, whereas I've always connected mostly with Satsuki, possibly b/c I first saw it as a little girl and was the older sister to a reckless younger sibling. It made me think about what it said about our respective personalities. It has nothing to do with my story, but I found it very interesting.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30: Of the Masks We Wear<strong>

Rowan spent the rest of July and into August studying for her P.A.T.s and working in her makeshift laboratory at Delacroix Manor, trying to make up for the lost research. She registered for an examination date at the end of January and was feeling confident that she'd pass. She hoped that by the time she acquired her Potioneer License, she'd have enough information recovered to resume Belby's work.

After Rowan's birthday, neither she nor Remus mentioned their intimate moment. Like their Christmas kiss, it remained a secret in the dark, and in the daylight, they maintained their comfortable friendship. Sometimes, she could even fool herself into believing that it had all been a dream, but something about it left her aching. She found herself tossing and turning in the hot summer nights, imagining his lips on hers again and the heated ways he used to leave her writhing, and even her dreams often left her wanting. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with her lack of control and had even begun consciously avoiding any physical contact with Remus to try to at least prevent herself from doing anything stupid.

Though she'd momentarily entertained the idea of pursuing a physical but casual relationship with Barty, she quickly realized that she was incapable of it. She wasn't sure if it was because she couldn't separate the emotional from the physical or if it was simply because she was still too in love with Remus. She desperately wanted to be touched again, but despite not being together, the thought of being intimate with anyone else made her feel incredibly guilty. She realized rather sadly that she still wasn't ready to completely move on.

But her farcical relationship with the young Crouch remained friendly. To make up for missing her birthday night, he took her out for dinner at a trendy restaurant in the city and gave her good news of Karkaroff's approaching trial date and a large booklet full of rare and hauntingly beautiful sheet music. She thanked him warmly and promised to play for him as soon as she practiced the first piece. Barty had seemed quite pleased, and though she wanted to be excited about playing for him, the memory of Remus sitting at her kitchen table as she shared her father's melody dampened any anticipation she had about the new music. She wondered if she'd ever be able to play her violin again without thinking of him.

She mentally scowled. Would she ever be able to do _anything_ without thinking of him?

* * *

><p>After their drunken night, Rowan and Mina got lunch together at a café near the Ministry as they'd promised to discuss Peter's new ladylove. The memory of Eris' piercing gaze still sent cold shivers up Rowan's spine, and though she genuinely liked Peter, she was finding it very hard now to look at him without the sensation of her skin crawling. Mina apparently felt the same way.<p>

"Can I show you something?" she asked lowly to Rowan beneath the loud chatter of the café. Rowan looked at her with mild confusion. Mina gave her a hard look.

"Something about Peter's new girlfriend rubbed me the wrong way," she said quietly. "I know you and Lupin felt something weird too." Rowan eyed her cautiously.

"I went to the library the other day and rummaged through the old newspaper archives and saw something that made me realize why she bothered me so much," she said quickly. She pulled a sheet from her bag and slid it to Rowan.

It was a newspaper clipping of a moving photo of a group of wizards and witches, all wearing Gringotts uniforms. They stood in a huge windowless room, full of countless glittering treasures. In the middle of the photo stood a young woman with a sensual mouth and dark flowing hair – Eris Eripice.

But something was off. Or perhaps it was right? The Eris in the photo moved completely differently from the one they'd met the other night. Even the way she held herself and the movement of her face was different. The one they'd met was silk and ink. This woman was movement and air. Rowan watched the figure grinning broadly at the camera, and when one of her fellow colleagues nudged her playfully in the side, she laughed openly with her head thrown back gaily. Rowan's chest stomach lurched at the stark difference.

She looked back up at Mina, who was frowning gravely at her.

"It's eerie, right - how much she looks like you?" she asked quietly. "That photo was from a _Daily Prophet_ article from last year, and it quotes her about a collection of Egyptian treasure her team had brought in. She was a new transfer treasure hunter from Greece. I don't remember the woman we met having an accent, do you?"

Rowan frowned. "No," she answered seriously. "But isn't it possible that her English is just good enough to not speak with one? She has been here for over a year, after all," she reasoned slowly, though she wasn't convinced by her own argument.

Mina looked at her disbelievingly. "We both know you don't believe that. Something here is wrong," she said bluntly. She grimaced guiltily. "Also, I hate to say it, but a woman like that – she's quite beautiful, right? And she's a pretty high-ranking treasure hunter - those kinds of people are thrill-seekers. Why the hell would someone like her go for Peter?" she asked. "I mean, I love him to death. He's a really sweet, great guy, but this Eris Eripice could certainly do much better. Don't you think?"

Rowan also grimaced. She couldn't deny Mina's reasoning. Peter was certainly a nice man, but he wasn't the smartest and definitely not the most attractive. He wasn't particularly funny or witty or talented with his hands or wand, and though opposites often attract - Mina and Sirius were certainly evidence of that - this was pretty unbelievable. She gazed at the woman in the photograph – her smiles were warm and engaging and seemed to draw her male colleagues towards her magnetically. Why _would_ a woman of such standing be attracted to someone like Peter Pettigrew?

"Have you mentioned this to Sirius?" she asked. Mina scowled.

"Yeah, but he got all defensive and said that I shouldn't assume so much and that people are different in relationships than they are with their colleagues," she said bitterly, mocking Sirius with a deep, stupid voice. Rowan had to smirk amusedly at it. "And obviously, I can't say anything negative about Peter to Sirius. He would never stand for it.

"I know he has a point, but everything in me is telling me that this isn't right. I know you felt it too. Please tell me you don't think I sound crazy," she whispered heatedly. Rowan had never seen those blue eyes burn so hotly.

Rowan nodded. "No, I definitely understand," she said fervently. "I felt it too. Something about her... It's wrong." Her face fell slightly.

"What should we do?" she asked weakly.

Mina's face also fell. "I don't know," she answered quietly. "I can't report her to a superior because no one else has reported anything unusual, and it'd be difficult for me to investigate her without anyone else noticing. I can mention my suspicions to Mad-Eye and hope that he bites but… I guess all we can really do for now is keep an eye on her and make sure nothing happens to Peter."

Rowan felt deflated. She nodded dejectedly. Would it really be safe to leave Peter with this woman if she was, in fact, not whom he thought her to be?

She sighed and shared an uneasy silence with Mina. They would just have to wait it out and see.

* * *

><p>"Hello there, beautiful," Barty greeted cheerily. He stood from the table to kiss Rowan on the cheek, and she accepted it with a smile.<p>

He had been busy at the Ministry, so she hadn't seen much of him for a couple of weeks. He insisted that he take her out for lunch to make up for it, and she couldn't refuse. She'd taken the time away from him to continue studying for her exam, and though she knew that a proper friend would miss spending time with him, she hadn't found any sort of yearning or longing. She couldn't be sure if it was a good or bad thing.

They got to talking, and he updated her with the happenings of Karkaroff's case. They'd set a trial date for January. It felt so far off, but he insisted that it was normal and that the Death Eater was being held in Azkaban in the meantime. The thought of him wallowing in the Dementors' stronghold helped ease her anxiety with a dark satisfaction.

"How are your parents doing?" she asked lightly. She eyed him cautiously and saw him flinch slightly.

Everyone with notable connections knew the Crouch family had a strained dynamic. Crouch Sr. was even more work-obsessed than her father had ever been at even his worst, and unlike her mother, Ariadne Crouch was a woman of weak will and countenance. She'd met her a couple of times throughout the years and had pitied the poor woman's inability to keep up with her husband. Even as a teenager, Rowan had overpowered the wisp of a woman, and she couldn't help but also pity her son, who obviously bore the burden of being the highly intelligent child to two highly flawed parents. She wasn't sure whom she should pity more.

"Mother is the same as always, and Father is, well... you know," he said casually, but there was a bite of bitterness there. "He's been particularly insufferable recently. I thought that perhaps working with him would give me a better understanding of him, but it's just made it worse. It's like he's making my job more miserable _because_ I'm his son." He scowled and gazed into his tea cup. Rowan wondered what he saw in it.

"I'm really sorry to hear that," she said sympathetically. She felt slightly bad for bringing it up, but she supposed he probably didn't get to talk about it much. She'd at least had Alfred to confide her feelings in as a child when her parents had been at their worst. Did Barty have anyone of that nature? She sort of hoped she could fill that role for him.

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "You and your father – he was a very work-oriented man as well, wasn't he?" he asked carefully.

Rowan nodded. Her stomach lurched slightly at the thought of Richard. "He was. I'll admit that I resented him for a long time because of it – my mother was often depressed and lonely when I was young –, but I knew that, when it came down to it, he was a good man, and he loved us more than anything... I think the way he died confirmed that," she said quietly. She smiled gently at the thought of her father's bravery. He wasn't always attentive, but he certainly was a good father, a good man.

Barty was gazing at her with an intense heat. She couldn't read his expression, but something about it stirred a sense of unease in her stomach.

"You're very lucky," he said quietly. His eyes were still fiery. "Your mother seems like a very strong woman. She was able to be a proper partner to your father." The accuracy of his words gave her pause. She eyed him warily.

"My mother," he continued, "She's weak. She's always been weak. I honestly have no idea how my parents ever thought that their union would be beneficial to either party. I've often thought that my father would have been better off with a harder woman – someone like your mother, or even you."

Rowan continued to watch him carefully. His expression hadn't changed at all – still heated and hard. She could nearly taste his bitterness. His last statement somewhat disturbed her. What was he implying?

"You know, I'm really grateful that I've been able to get to know you over the past few months, even if it was because of something so petty as family connections," he said softly. "I didn't have many friends growing up who understood what it was like with parents like mine. We have a lot in common, don't you think?"

Rowan forced herself to remain still, to not shift uneasily and look away. She held his gaze steadily and nodded slightly.

"It's a blessing to have people you can trust, especially in these times, and I really feel like you're one of those people," he said heatedly. She heard his words and knew she should feel touched, but something about them didn't match his expression. Why did she feel so uneasy?

"Have you seen the article in _The Daily Prophet_ about the McKinnons?" he asked suddenly. Rowan couldn't hold the confusion from her face. He set a newspaper out in front of them, and on the front page was written out in bold letters: "MCKINNON FAMILY MISSING. SIGNS OF STRUGGLE IN HOME."

Rowan had to suppress a grimace. She'd heard about the McKinnons even before _The Daily Prophet_ or Ministry had. Marlene and her older brother Derek were members of the Order. She'd been a couple years ahead of Rowan in Gryffindor, and he'd been a Fifth Year during her First. They'd both been popular and high-achieving students - attractive, well-humored, and beautifully blonde. Their family was well-known for being staunch supporters of Dumbledore, and the thought of them being in danger made her stomach clench painfully. James and Frank Longbottom had been working with Kingsley Shacklebolt day and night to find them, and Rowan had a terrible feeling that they'd soon have a serious mission on their hands.

"Yeah, it's terrifying," she said quietly, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice. Why was he showing this to her so suddenly? "I was friends with Marlene in school. I can't stand the thought of something happening to her."

She looked up and saw Barty looking at her with an overwhelming intensity. His eyes searched hers hotly. Her throat clenched nervously. She still couldn't read his face.

"I can't help but wonder who will be the first to find them," he said softly. The silkiness of his tone sent a chill through her. "There are so many rumors of Dumbledore's alleged army fighting You-Know-Who's supporters. They seem to be the ones doing all the work, not the Ministry – don't you think?"

Rowan forced her face to keep still but nervously had no idea how to react. She held his gaze steadily, but her head pounded deafeningly.

"I've heard the rumors," she said carefully, "But I can't imagine that they're doing _all_ of the work. I'm sure your department has been working incessantly to fight the Death Eaters. Surely, you must take some credit." She tried to look at him warmly, but she couldn't be sure how her features were moving. She thought nervously that she probably looked very stiff.

His gaze darkened, and she suddenly thought of the shadowy anger on his face the first time she'd gone out with him. A tinge of fear set into her bones.

"My department is useless," he said bitterly. "We make a show of working, but we're not actually catching anyone. The majority of the Death Eaters that get arrested are the ones that show up in the middle of the night – presents from Dumbledore's army."

There was a fire in his eyes scalded her. She wanted to look away but somehow knew that she couldn't falter. Mina's warnings echoed through her mind: _He's much more like his father than he lets on._ She couldn't lose face to him.

"I wonder," he continued slowly, eyeing her carefully, "how one would become involved with this army, this Order of the Phoenix." He looked at her heatedly.

Anger flared in her. She was startled by its strength, confused at its suddenness and intensity. Something screamed in her, though it was incoherent. She struggled to keep her poise and stared back at him calmly.

"I would imagine that one would have to earn Professor Dumbledore's trust, if this army of his isn't just some rumor," she said nonchalantly. She reached for her water and took a long drink. The liquid boiled down her throat.

He assessed her carefully some more. "I've heard that a great majority of Order members are Gryffindors though. Surely you must have some old housemates that you suspect are members," he said slowly.

"I don't," she quipped smartly. "And if I am acquainted with any, they do a very good job at hiding it." She turned away from him and stared out the window of the restaurant. She wasn't letting this conversation continue.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. She kept her gaze directed outside, mind racing. A part of her feared looking at him – would she see his hidden rage again? Finally, the silence was broken by a third voice.

"Hello, are you ready to order?"

Rowan's head jerked towards the waitress, who was looking at them expectantly. She had a bright smile on her face. It seemed very out of place.

Rowan glanced over at Barty, who was once again smiling warmly. The sudden shift in his energy made her uneasy, but she ignored it for the moment. They ordered their food, and when the waitress left, it was as if the previous heavy conversation had never happened. They spoke casually for the rest of the meal, though Rowan kept her guard up, half-expecting to see the shadows in his face again. But his countenance remained light, and when he placed his hand on her back to guide her out of the restaurant after, she only felt a slight chill.

"I'll probably be busy again next week, but maybe we could grab a quick dinner if you're free?" he asked hopefully. She bristled slightly at the thought but smiled at him.

"Yes, of course. Don't work too hard, okay?" she said with false warmth. She wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.

"Right," he said. Then his smile faltered slightly and he said casually, "If you hear of any people I can connect with about what we discussed earlier, I'd be very interested in getting involved." He looked at her lightly, but she could see the underlying heat in his eyes. She nodded and held his gaze.

"I'll keep it in mind," she said casually.

He smiled and leaned forward slowly, grazing her cheek with his lips. He came very close to the corner of her mouth. She suppressed a shiver.

"I'll see you later, Winnie. Thanks for hearing me out earlier - I really appreciate it," he said with a slow smile. She nodded and smiled weakly.

As he walked away, she kept her eyes on his back, determined to see him leave before turning away. When she saw him Disapparate, a rush of air shot from her lungs. She nearly gasped with relief. The limbs suddenly felt much more aware, the sound in her ears louder.

What had just happened? Barty obviously suspected that she was in the Order, but despite his alleged interest, she didn't believe him at all. There was something dark there, something sinister. She'd heard rumors of many Ministry officials being averse to the idea of the Order's vigilante operations, but he had never struck her as one. The hair on her arms stood on end, and a chill ran up her spine despite the August heat.

She thought of his invitation for dinner the next week with dread. The next Order meeting luckily was before then. She would certainly have to remember to bring this up with her allies. Maybe Dumbledore would know what to do.


	31. Of the Act of Murder

**A/N**: I felt pretty cool writing this, like it's some spy story. I guess technically it sort of is, but this was pretty bad ass. It gets kind of _**graphic with the violence**_ though, so beware. Also, thanks to everyone for the sudden influx of reviews! I love it! Please keep them coming!

**misslak:** Thank you so much as always! Sorry for no Remus, but there will be lots of him in the upcoming chapters, so I hope that makes up for it!

**S38:** Hahahaha sorry, no shagging in this chapter. Maybe someday sigh...

**CurseDoll: **I'm honestly not really sure how to respond to your review haha. It'd be kinda counterproductive to kill off my main character, right? But thanks for all the favoriting and reviewing! I really appreciate it ^_^

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thank you as always! More Remus coming soon!

**MaeveD:** Thank you so much for the kind review and of course for reading! I'm glad I have a name to your virtual voice now. Sorry for the wait!

**JazzyPoole:** Thank you! I like leaving little hints, so I'm glad you enjoy them too haha. And Remus and Rowan will work it out... eventually...

**Guest...?:** Thank you so much! I don't know your internet name, but I appreciate the warm review! I hope you continue to read and enjoy!

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31: Of the Act of Murder<strong>

A deep silence fell upon the green hills of the Scottish wizarding village of Wigtown. The humidity seemed to absorb all sound and light, settling heavily upon the empty streets. Rowan Delacroix, Emmeline Vance, Arthur Weasley, and Dedalus Diggle were positioned as the support teams. Rowan and Arthur perched high on the roof of a house in the middle of the street at one intersection, and Emmeline and Dedalus perched on another at the end. All four melted into the shadows with heavy Disillusionment Charms.

Rowan's dark clothes stuck to her skin with sweat. A drop slowly rolled down her neck, and she had to force herself to not move and wipe it away. Her breath felt sticky and heavy with the heat. She looked down the street past Emmeline and Dedalus at Lestrange Manor in the distance. The yellow lights from the windows glowed menacingly. She glared at it momentarily before looking back down.

There was a faint popping sound from a dark alleyway. Silence settled again then followed by muffled voices and shuffling feet from the opposite direction, rapidly approaching them. A pair of dark-robed men appeared, silver masks glinting in the faint moonlight.

"It came from over there," one said lowly, gesturing towards the alleyway. She held her breath as they moved towards the end of the street away from her tree, but just as they were about to turn the corner, a sleek silver tabby cat crept from the shadows. Black markings circled its eyes like glasses perched on a nose. It looked up at them with narrowed eyes and hissed, back arched.

"Fucking cat," one of them growled, kicking at it. The cat sprang away and hissed again but didn't budge. The men cursed at it softly before turning and walking back the way they came.

They waited a few moments. The cat sat still at the entrance of the alleyway, green eyes glinting in the darkness. Finally, it let out a long careening meow that echoed softly down the street. Rowan's chest tightened before turning towards the opposite end of the street and letting out her own high-pitched meow. She heard Emmeline echo it back, the sound bouncing down the empty street. _All clear_.

Rowan heard the softest of shuffling from the alleyway and saw the faintest movement of shadows. She could make out a subtle shift in the darkness, though at first glance, the street appeared empty, but then she saw a series of soft footprints appear in the dirt roads.

There was a faint glimmer of light hair that she recognized as Remus', and Rowan felt her breath catch – the Disillusionment Charms on the assault team were fading. She and Arthur pointed their wands at the slow peeking of heads in the darkness and wordlessly cast a fresh series of charms upon the party below. She glanced around and listened carefully for the Death Eaters again as their wands glowed a faint white from the roof, but she saw no indication of them.

After recasting the last, she and Arthur followed them soundlessly over the roofs of the houses, peering down onto the streets for any sign of enemies. The cat ran ahead of the group towards Emmeline and Dedalus.

Suddenly, the cat hissed loudly. Rowan doubled her pace across the roofs, leaving Arthur to watch the rear. Below, she saw the cat arching and spitting venomously at a group of three different Death Eaters, all much taller than the last pair they'd seen. One stepped from the trio and sauntered towards the cat. Despite the mask, Rowan could almost see the smile on the man's face.

"Hello there, pussy cat," he drawled. "What a beautiful creature you are!"

The cat arched defensively and backed away slowly, teeth bared. The Death Eater approached it slowly, almost in a strut.

"It's quite a hot night, isn't it? Surely, you must have some cool place with your other kitty friends to escape to," he said.

"You know, you remind me of someone," the Death Eater continued. "And those markings – it's uncanny how similar animals can resemble humans. Why, if I didn't know any better…" he trailed off.

Suddenly his hand shot out, grabbing the cat roughly. It let out a long blood-curdling shriek, claws tearing wildly at the robes of the Death Eater, but he laughed and held it out in front of him, hanging it by the neck.

"_Professor McGonagall!_ How nice of you to visit us on this beautiful summer night!" he shouted gleefully. The other two Death Eaters laughed riotously, and Rowan felt her blood run cold. She could hear Arthur's faint footsteps running towards her. She glanced down to make sure that the assault team was still disillusioned before looking back at the laughing dark wizards.

"I haven't seen you in so long, Professor!" the man continued, ignoring the choking shrieks from the cat. "I'd nearly forgotten you were an Animagus. But then again, you _are_ the Transfiguration professor." He shook her hard, and Rowan's throat tightened painfully as she saw the cat's head jerk. Her body flopped violently.

"But why are you running around here like that, Professor? Why don't you come out and talk to us? It hardly seems fair. What was that reversal spell you once taught us?"

Rowan could hear the sickening grin in the Death Eater's voice. Her stomach lurched as she saw him raise his wand.

"Oh yes!" he shouted mockingly, pointing the wand at her still-thrashing form. "_Ani-" _

Rowan's wand shot out before she could think. "_Stupefy!" _she shouted. A red beam of light shot out at the wizard, and he let out a strangled cry before collapsing to the ground. Professor McGonagall collapsed with him but scrambled to her feet before sprinting into the shadows. Rowan could see a painful limp in her back left leg.

The remaining two Death Eaters shouted and started shooting spells wildly towards the roof, though they ricocheted off the brick and wood. She ducked behind a brick chimney, glancing down at the street to ensure that the assault team was still unharmed. She saw a slight glimmer and let out a breath of relief before gripping her wand and jumping out from behind the chimney. She released another burst of white light, effectively silencing the wizards then hitting them with a Stunning Spell.

As they collapsed to the ground, she quickly leapt down from the roof and grabbed the two Death Eaters, then pointed her wand at the third and magically pulled him to her. As she began stripping them of their robes and masks, she heard a quick pattering of footsteps towards her.

"Change in plans," she whispered, thrusting a mask out to whomever was next to her. She recognized the man beneath it as a young Slytherin who had been a year behind her at Hogwarts. She scowled at him. The next was also a recent graduate, but the last one – the one who had threatened Professor McGonagall – was Abraham Avery, Jr., one of her old school enemies. She smiled bitterly.

"Good thinking," a deep voice replied – Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Remus, James! Come put these on!" he called quietly.

She saw the three slowly reappear as they moved forward, quickly pulling the dark robes and masks from the Death Eaters and donning them in a hurry. Rowan tied the three Death Eaters together with conjured ropes.

"I'll take these three to the Ministry for questioning," she heard from her left. She looked up to see Minerva McGonagall looking down at her, looking pale and hair unusually disheveled. There were large purple handprints forming around her neck painfully. Rowan nodded.

"Are you okay, Professor?" she asked quickly. The older woman nodded with a grimace as she grabbed the group of men with effort.

"Sprained ankle, but I'll be fine," she answered. "Be careful and good luck," she whispered before Disapparating with a pop.

Rowan looked around and saw the three men now dressed in black robes and silver masks. She knew they were her friends, but something about the menacing uniform made her shiver despite the excruciating heat. She glanced behind them and wondered where Sirius and Gideon stood.

"Hey! Who's over there?" someone shouted. Rowan turned quickly and pressed herself into the shadows, relieved to see that her Disillusionment hadn't faded yet.

The two Death Eaters from before reappeared from around the corner, and Kingsley straightened up to look at them. They jumped slightly.

"Oh, Abe, I'm sorry! I didn't realize it was you!" one babbled apologetically.

"What have I told you about using names, you idiot!" he boomed. Rowan marveled at how similar he sounded to the now-arrested Death Eater. The bumbling Death Eaters flinched.

"Sorry! My apologies!" he whimpered. "We'll just, uh, continue our patrol then!" They then scurried off.

They stood in silence for a moment, listening for signs of any other disturbances. Rowan heard a faint meowing coming from the dark house at the corner – Emmeline was checking to see if they were okay. Rowan meowed back.

She turned to look at the three men before her. Her insides curdled a bit at the sight, but she moved from the shadows.

"We'll be off then," Kingsley said quietly. "If we run into trouble, we'll let out the signal. Be sure to keep on guard. Fabian and Frank will probably have taken out some of the guards already, but we can't be sure. Be safe."

Rowan squeezed his hand to let him know that she heard him and he nodded. He turned and began walking towards the house, followed by James. Remus lagged behind for a moment, glancing around for Rowan's hidden form, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. He jumped slightly in surprise but then squeezed back.

"Please be careful," she whispered. Fear crept up her spine. He nodded.

"You too," he whispered back. Then he turned and followed after the group, and Rowan watched them walk away with an empty ache in her stomach.

* * *

><p>Remus approached the menacing house behind Kingsley and James. His chest felt tight enough to implode. He didn't know why Kingsley chose him for this – he wasn't good at talking his way out of tight spots like James. Wouldn't Sirius or Gideon have been a more logical choice?<p>

Kingsley opened the door to the manor, and they stepped into a large foyer with high ceilings. An ornate goblin-made chandelier hung menacingly, emitting a low yellow glow. Gray cobwebs hung from it like lace.

"What was all of that racket out there?" demanded a haughty voice.

A tall statuesque woman with thick, dark, shining hair stormed towards them. Her face was beautiful and strong with heavy-lidded eyelids and thin lips, but there was a dark air of superiority about her. Remus recognized her as Sirius' older cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. He noted smugly that Richard Delacroix had recently taken down her father-in-law.

"Just a damn cat – probably in heat," Kingsley answered in Avery's voice. Bellatrix scowled.

"Fucking cats," she spat, eyes sparking maliciously. "Useless, filthy creatures!"

A shrill, blood-curdling scream came from the basement. It bounced from the walls and against the chandelier. Following the scream came muffled shouts and thuds. Remus had to suppress the fear that trembled through his legs.

"_Oh dear_," Bellatrix drawled. "It seems our house guests aren't enjoying the companion I sent down." She grinned maniacally. "Who would've thought prudish little Marly McKinnon would be such a screamer?"

Another shriek vibrated throughout the manor, and Bellatrix's grin widened even more. He was startled by his sudden urge to slap the smile from her face.

"Ah, music to my ears," she said almost wistfully. "I'm going to go find my husband. Why don't you see if you can offer our guests any refreshments?" she said lightly.

Remus watched her with barely contained rage. She danced up the stairs, humming an indecipherable tune to a strange rhythm, skipping a step with each change in pitch in the shaking screams. He wanted to burn the stairs and her with them.

When they saw her disappear down the halls and heard a door close, James turned towards them.

"Holy shit, Padfoot! What the fuck is wrong with your family?" he spat.

"Yeah, she's a fucking monster," muttered a voice from behind Remus. Sirius and Gideon remained Disillusioned. Another scream rang through the house.

"Quiet!" hissed Kingsley. James bowed his head in apology. "We need to get to the McKinnons. Fabian and Frank should be around here somewhere distracting the guards. If we're lucky, they'll have knocked them out by now. Sirius, Gideon: you two stay at the entrance of the basement and keep watch. Signal if the Lestranges start moving again. James, Remus, and I will try to overtake whoever is down there with the McKinnons. As soon as I make the signal, we run for it. Questions?"

They all shook their heads, and the three disguised members took off to find the basement. Gideon remained behind at the base of the stairs in the foyer and Sirius remained at the basement entrance. Remus took a deep breath as the remaining three moved down the narrow stairs into the dark. He hoped that Rowan was safe outside.

The stairs down to the basement in the Lestrange's Manor were long and narrow. Kingsley led James and Remus down carefully as the haunting screams of a woman shook louder and louder up the narrow corridor and into their ears. Remus was grateful for the silver Death Eater mask on his face, for it hid his visible flinch with every shriek and groan.

Finally, the basement came into view: a large gray cement expanse with long dark bars standing in a row from floor to ceiling. Behind the bars lay three people in tattered, dirty clothing – two men and a woman. They were very still.

Along the wall outside of the barred off area was a young blonde woman shackled in a medieval looking machine. She was doubled over with her wrists and neck clamped in a single wooden block that hung from the ceiling in chains. Blood trickled down her chin, pooling with rhythmic drips on the cold cement floor. Her eyes were bloodshot, and as Remus looked harder, he could see the clothing on her back torn open and soaked with dark red blood. Deep, wide gashes were cut into her skin. Her entire body shook with sobs.

It was Order of the Phoenix member Marlene McKinnon.

"Oy, Avery!"

A young slender man with brown hair donned in black but sans robes and mask stood in front of the crying young woman – Evan Rosier. Remus' throat constricted with rage at the sight of his old classmate. Red splatters adorned his arms and even part of his face. He held his wand in one hand and a whip in the other. He grinned at them.

"What's with the whip?" Kingsley asked calmly. Remus was astounded at how levelheaded he could remain in the presence of such brutality.

"I like the feel of it," Rosier answered gleefully. "There's something more satisfying - something _visceral_ - about manual labor that you don't get from a wand, don't you think?"

He brought the whip down hard with a deafeningly crack on Marlene's back. She let out a choking shriek and then broke into a fresh wave of tears, trembling violently under the weight of her own body. Her hair stuck to her face wetly in a mixture of tears and blood.

"Oh sh-sh-shh," Rosier cooed quietly. He kneeled down so that he was face to face with Marlene. "This is all your fault, you know? You're being so uncooperative. If you just answered my questions, we wouldn't have to keep playing this game. And look," he said softly, gesturing towards the three other men with a faint smile. "You're embarrassing me in front of my friends."

"I told you I don't know anything!" she sobbed. She thrashed her head as he held a hand to her face, dragging his nails down her cheek softly.

"Oh, but that's not true. You know where the Order headquarters is, your fellow members' names. The list goes on and on. Anything would do," he cooed. He dug his nails into her skin roughly and she cried out in pain.

"Rosier!" James blurted. Remus looked towards him with fear.

The Death Eater held Marlene's face tightly but turned to look at James. Annoyance flickered across his face.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"Lestrange wanted a word with you," James said calmly.

Rosier assessed him quietly for a moment, and Remus' panic simmered in his lungs. Finally, Rosier let go of Marlene's face and stood, throwing his whip against the wall roughly.

"What the fuck does she want _now?_" he muttered angrily. "I'm sick of her ordering me around like some fucking house elf. That stupid bitch needs to be put in her place."

He stormed towards the stairs, turning away from the gruesome scene, but just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, Kingsley hit him in the back with a Stunning Spell. He fell to the ground with a grunt.

James ran forward and grabbed him violently, conjuring ropes to restrain him. He jerked him around roughly and tossed him to the side angrily.

"What a fucking psycho!" he spat. "What is wrong with these people?"

As James frantically wiped the blood from his hands, Remus and Kingsley rushed towards Marlene. Her eyes widened in fear, breath surging rapidly in gasps.

"Marlene, it's okay. It's your friends," whispered Remus quickly as he undid the locks on the wood and chains. "We're going to get you out of here."

Her eyes filled with tears. "R-Remus?" she stammered breathlessly. "H-how…?"

"We'll have time to answer questions later. We have to get you and your family out of here now. Can you stand?" asked Kingsley.

Marlene tested her legs shakily as they released her wrists and head. Her knees gave out for a moment, and Remus shot forward to grab her. She steadied herself on his arms and stood slowly, legs still trembling. Kingsley assessed her wounds calmly and whispered a series of incantations over them. Remus saw the bloody gashes start to close up. After a few moments, she was able to stand with Remus' support, though it looked as if she carried a heavy weight on her back. Her skin was a sickening shade of white.

James had moved to the caged off area and had opened the door. He was already inside, kneeling next to one of the men, who appeared to be Marlene's older brother Derek. When the man didn't wake from his shakes, he shocked him with a Rejuvenating Charm, and he shot up, gasping loudly with limbs flailing in panic. He cried out in fear at the sight of James' mask.

"Derek! _Derek!_" James stammered, trying to keep his voice down. "It's James Potter! It's okay!" James removed his mask to reveal his face.

Derek's flailing stopped, but he kept his arms over his face. He peered almost frozen through his arms at James with wide eyes. His yellow hair stuck to his face with a sheen of sweat and grime.

"James?" he whispered disbelievingly.

James smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, it's me. Come on, we have to hurry!"

Derek staggered to his feet, wobbling dangerously, but as soon as he saw Marlene hanging onto Remus' shoulders, his strength seemed to come back to him. He stumbled forward in panic towards his sister.

"Marly!" he cried. His breath caught at the sight of her blood-heavy clothes and the caked blood and tears on her face. He ran his hands frantically over her cheeks and hair. The blood smeared over her skin and onto his hands. She flinched but smiled weakly.

"It's okay. I'm okay," she whispered encouragingly. His mouth quivered, but he held himself together, taking her from Remus' grasp so that he could support her while Remus moved forward to help James.

He didn't make it past he bars though. James looked up at him and Kingsley with fire in his eyes and a trembling mouth – the McKinnons' parents were dead.

"Shit," Kingsley whispered. Remus looked over at the young McKinnon siblings. They both gazed at their parents' bodies with tears in their eyes. Marlene's hands gripped her brother's shirt tightly, while he looked murderous.

"We have to leave them," Remus said quietly. Shame hit him hard as he saw the hurt in the blonde siblings' faces, but he knew they couldn't escape with the extra weight.

"B-but our parents! They-" Derek stammered with wide eyes.

"Remus is right," Kingsley cut in firmly. "I'm terribly sorry, but you two are our priority. We have to get out of here as quickly as we can before anyone notices that you're gone."

The siblings trembled with quiet tears. Marlene hiccuped quietly. Derek's grip on her tightened, but he nodded in understanding. Remus swallowed his guilt and moved quickly towards the stairs.

At the middle of the stairs, he pressed himself against the wall and looked up. The dim light seeped into the dark passageway. He listened carefully and didn't hear anything. He knocked softly against the wall twice. He heard another soft double knock back from Sirius. He turned back down the stairs and nodded at Kingsley, who quickly gestured for the other three to follow quickly.

As they moved up the stairs, Remus looked around quickly for any sign of other Death Eaters and saw only empty hallways. He heard the soft whisper of Sirius' footsteps. As they approached the next corner to the foyer, he heard another double knock. Gideon knocked twice back. They moved forward.

Remus kept his wand tucked into his sleeve but gazed around the foyer and up the stairs to watch for Bellatrix, Rabastan, or Rodolphus Lestrange. The McKinnons staggered forward with Kingsley and James holding up the rear. The door opened slowly – Remus assumed from Sirius or Gideon's doing – but just as they were about to move out, shouting and the sounds of thrashing erupted from the basement.

"_Escaped! The prisoners have escaped!"_

Remus felt his blood run cold. How had Evan Rosier had already come to? Kingsley grabbed the McKinnons and shot out into the night. Shouts and feet thundered throughout the house, and Remus heard a slamming of a door from above and saw a mass of dark hair bolt down the hall. Bellatrix Lestrange screamed with spitting venom.

"FAKES!" she shrieked at Remus and James. She threw green light down the stairs towards them, and they leapt out of the way, narrowly missing her Killing Curses. "FAKES! _FAKES!"_ she bellowed.

"_Let's go!_" Remus shouted at James, and they tore out of the house. He heard Bellatrix thundering down the stairs and crashes of furniture and spells behind them.

As they ran out into the night, Marlene struggled forward with Derek pulling her desperately along. Kingsley was in front, and Remus could see the Disillusionment Charms fading slowly from Sirius and Gideon. A shock of red hair began to appear in the darkness. He then saw a flash of white light from the roof of a nearby building and a Shield Charm covered them.

A flurry of green light started shooting from the house, and Remus heard Bellatrix's raging voice screeching through the night air.

"MUDBLOODS! TRAITORS!" she shrieked. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

But then he heard her grunt and thud, and Remus hazarded a glance back to see a wizard donned in dark robes sprinting past her limp body, which now laid on the ground. He threw his mask to the ground – Frank Longbottom. Behind him, another wizard burst from the house, and he saw flaming red hair poking beneath the hood – Fabian Prewett.

"We have to get beyond the manor barrier!" the Auror shouted.

The group sprinted down the empty streets, but then another group of about five Death Eaters blocked them off, appearing from the next street over. Remus saw Kingsley raise his wand in preparation, but a barrage of red light rained down from the roofs, hitting all of the Death Eaters with a series of grunt and shouts. Remus looked up and saw Rowan, Emmeline, Arthur, and Dedalus with arms raised. Their Disillusionment Charms had finally faded.

"GO!" Arthur bellowed at them.

"Kingsley! Get the McKinnons out of here! We'll hold them off!" James shouted, turning back towards the manor. A small wave of dark-robed wizards were quickly closing the distance. Evan Rosier led the group, looking bruised but murderous.

Marlene was still struggling. Her face was stone white from the blood she'd lost, and Remus could hear her gasping raggedly with the strain. Derek was pulling her along but was also staggering slightly from his own injuries. Rosier wasn't far behind. Rowan and the rest of the support squad were shooting protective spells around the siblings and hexes into the swarm of Death Eaters. A few dropped to the ground with loud grunts and shouts, but there were still at least six or seven quickly closing the gap.

Sirius ran forward to grab Derek. He yanked him off of Marlene, and Fabian grabbed him, dragging him away with a burst of strength. He shouted for his sister, but just as Sirius was about to haul Marlene over his shoulder, a burst of green light hit her in the back.

Remus felt the shouts fall away as he saw the light in Marlene McKinnon's eyes fade. Her mouth hung open in a silent gasp, eyes still wide with fear. She collapsed into Sirius' arms with a flurry of arms and yellow hair, and as she hit the ground, all he could hear was Derek's screams.

* * *

><p>Rowan breath left her as she saw the blonde woman fall to the ground in a heap. Sirius held her body with fearful eyes, disbelieving. She heard Arthur and Emmeline screaming at him to move, but he stared at the lifeless form in his arms as if he too had been hit with the Killing Curse.<p>

Rowan saw Evan Rosier below. He was nearly upon Sirius, wand drawn. Her lungs seized, and before she could stop herself, she had thrown her body off of the roof and onto the Death Eater's body.

"NO!" she screamed. Her voice seemed to jolt Sirius from his daze and catch Rosier's attention. He cried out as she came barreling down on him. He didn't have the time to draw his wand on her, and they collapsed to the ground in a storm of limbs.

Sirius tore Rowan off of the Death Eater, but they quickly found themselves surrounded by another five. They stood with backs pressed against each other. She held her wand out fiercely, keeping an eye on the groaning Rosier, who was pulling himself slowly from the ground. The other three support team members had leapt from the roofs and stood around the Death Eaters but at a careful distance. Rowan could hear Derek screaming. She saw Fabian dragging him away past Remus, Frank, and James, and soon, there was a pop, and they were gone. She felt a slight bit of relief.

"_You_," Rosier breathed venomously, glaring Rowan down. He grinned slowly, and she bristled angrily. "I've been waiting for this day for years, you little bitch. The half-breed lover and the Black family disgrace – how deliciously perfect," he said silkily.

"No," Rowan said quietly. "It's all of us against just you, Rosier. You're totally outnumbered."

"Like I give a shit," he sneered. "But this reminds me of something," he said giddily. He grinned at her. Her skin crawled.

"_What?"_ she spat. He giggled, high-pitched and grating. Her stomach churned with nausea.

"_The fire burned, the screams were heard, the house came tumbling down!"_ he sang gleefully. Rowan felt the blood drain from her face.

"Oh yes," he taunted. "We had some fun, yes, we did – me and your half-breed loving master. Shall I burn you away like poor old bumbling Belby?"

Heat shot up into Rowan's lungs. She felt her arm burn.

"_It was you!"_ she seethed. Every muscle in her body tightened with rage, and she thought that fire might burst from her throat. Her hand clutched her wand so tightly that she thought it might break. It seemed to vibrate in response.

"_Me!"_ Rosier cried giddily. "Oh, you should have _heard_ him! The serious ones are always the most fun," he mocked. Rowan's blood boiled. "I have to say he put up a pretty good fight for an old man, but he went down just like they all do – burning and screaming." His eyes pierced into her.

Rowan could barely breathe. She felt as if she was choking on her own rage. Heat scorched into her flesh and bones, and she wanted to feel Rosier's face beneath her hands as she tore him limb from limb. She wanted to hear him scream with agony.

"My only regret though," Rosier continued softly. His voice was nearly a whisper. "Was that _you_ weren't there. Imagine my disappointment when I realized you'd stepped out, after all of the preparations I'd made! Talk about bad luck!" he said dramatically.

The red anger seized Rowan, and before she knew it, icy blue light shot out from her wand.

"_Frigio Ignus!_" she screamed. Blue flames erupted around Rosier's chest, and he screamed out in pain. The sound sparked a flurry of shouts. Bursts of light shot chaotically through the darkness suddenly as the Order and Death Eaters clashed. She felt the pressure of Sirius' back against hers disappear as he contorted and dodged as he dueled. Beams flew around her as she stormed towards Rosier's flailing body. He was thrashing on the ground wildly, writhing in agony.

It was the same hex that she had been hit with nearly two years before. As she thought of the all-consuming pain, the anger and hatred she wanted Rosier to feel, it had nearly burst from her wand on its own. She kicked him roughly in the side as he screamed.

"_You bastard!" _she screamed. "_I'll kill you! _I'LL KILL YOU!" She kicked him again and again, noting the sound of cracking in his sides under the pressure from her boots – she'd broken a couple of his ribs. Her legs flailed and burned as jolts of electricity seemed to seize them wildly. The flames had died out already, but he was still twitching with pain, eyes rolling back into his head and groaning sickeningly. She fell upon him with thrashing hands. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and threw him into the ground violently, smashing his face into the dirt. Her arm seared.

But then he laughed – a low, haunting sound.

She let go of him quickly and stared, staggering back slightly. His laughter was soft, breathy, but as he struggled to roll over onto his side, wheezing and coughing, the laughter grew. The sound shook her to the core and the chill of fear crept up her spine again.

"You're soft," he gasped, pushing himself up onto his hands. "You're soft!" he said more loudly. "Is that really the best you can do? A silly Frost Fire Curse? _Really?"_ He laughed harder, painfully. Spit bubbled at the corner of his mouth. The anger came surging back.

She shot the blue flames at him again in a blind screaming rage, and he collapsed back to the ground shrieking. She watched him numbly as he writhed. The sounds of battling around her signified that only a few remained standing, but she didn't bother to look or defend herself. She burned the image of Evan Rosier's thrashing body into her heart with relish. She wanted to carve the sound of his screams into her bones like a symphony.

When he finally stopped twitching, he lay on the ground wheezing, but a weak smile still played on his lips. A gasping laugh broke through, but he couldn't muster enough air to continue. She stalked up to him and thrust her wand into his face.

The words were in the back of her throat. Her tongue and eyes were numb. Her arm burned.

"You can't do it!" he gasped gleefully, the corners of his lips twitching upward with amusement. His chest rose and fell with effort. His breath came in short, labored wheezing. "_You're weak!_ You're_ nothing_ without your half-breed boyfriend! And blood traitor Daddy isn't here to save you! _Useless_! You're nothing! _NOTHING, you stupid whore!"_

Blinding rage - she fell upon him again with fists and elbows and knuckles. Her fists collided painfully with his face, but it was distant. Beneath her knuckles came crunching, cracking, spitting, but she didn't hear it. She didn't see it. Her mind was a blank slate. Her ears roared deafeningly. Distantly, she realized that her throat was searing, that she was screaming, but she didn't know the words. Were they a language that she knew?

But then her arms went limp, like a switch had been flipped. She was on her knees, leaning over Rosier's body. He twitched, gasping for air, staring at her with wide eyes.

Nausea hit her.

His mouth gaped with blood oozing from his lips. His cheeks were black and purple with several gashes in his skin. Small pebbles from the concrete were embedded into his face and neck. He gurgled sickeningly. Her throat squeezed painfully shut with ice and disgust. Her lungs heaved loudly, raggedly with exertion. Her cheeks burned with sweat and fire. She couldn't even recognize him.

What had she done?

But then there was a shriek, and Rowan's head jerked up. Bellatrix Lestrange had woken up from her collapse and was hurdling towards her, blind fury in her face and dagger in her hands. Her arm reached up, and Rowan saw the silver blade leave her fingers, flying through the air. It all seemed so slow, and yet she couldn't seem to move her arms. She couldn't dodge it. She felt the panic seize her skin and lungs with creeping ice. She closed her eyes to prepare for the impact.

But it never came.

She felt the pressure of a heavy body fall against her, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of cold, dark eyes boring into hers. Blood bubbled at the mouth, dribbling down the chin.

Evan Rosier had taken the dagger.

She felt her blood run cold as he smiled, red and wide. He coughed, spraying her face with blood. His fingers dug into her shoulders painfully. His nails dug into her scars painfully, and then he leaned forward and smeared his tongue and lips up her cheek, slowly, wetly. She felt the hot bubbling saliva from his mouth drip down her face and his breath sear her skin. She couldn't move.

"_Murderer_," he whispered into her ear.

As he pulled away, he kept his eyes locked with hers. He fell to the ground slowly, a jerking of joints and gravity, and as he crumpled to his knees, then his side, the light left his eyes. A red smile still grazed his face.

Rowan leaned over the lifeless body of Evan Rosier. His eyes continue to pierce through her, and she couldn't seem to find her lungs. Her burns seared painfully as she felt the wet dripping from his mouth's remains on her cheek fall onto her scarred arm. The world pulled away from her.

Then suddenly, she felt her feet leave the ground, and there were hands on her waist. She looked up and saw fury in the face of Bellatrix Lestrange hurdling towards her, but she was moving backwards, her innards bouncing and her vision jolting painfully. The sound of the dark woman's screaming came rushing back into her ears, but before she could decipher what she was saying, she felt the world around her suck into the void. She was going back to London.

* * *

><p>When the ground re-solidified, Rowan and her captor collapsed to the ground. She gasped and struggled, trying to find her arms and legs. She heaved, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea hit her, as if the gravity had been doubled momentarily. She choked back the sick and coughed into the ground, feeling the cold cobblestone digging into her cheek.<p>

Suddenly, she felt herself being hauled up by rough hands and shaken violently. Her head jerked painfully.

"_What is wrong with you?"_ someone shouted in her face. She tried to focus her gaze, but the world still seemed to be spinning. Finally, she got her bearings and saw a pair of green eyes burning into her frantically – _Remus._

She struggled to speak but couldn't find her words. His anger seared into her, and she felt her face burn with sudden shame, though she didn't know why.

"_You could have been killed!"_ he bellowed. She flinched at his tone. "_How could you be so reckless, so STUPID?"_

Then his arms were gripping her so tightly that the air was forced from her lungs. She felt hot bubbling tears hit her neck and the trembles of his chest against her own. A wave of guilt hit her, and she brought her arms up hesitantly to embrace him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Without warning, grief hit her, and she felt her own tears begin to surface. "I'm sorry!"

They held each other and cried silently for a few moments. She fisted her hands tightly in the Death Eater's robes he still wore, and he clung to her desperately, burying his face in her hair and running his hands frantically over her. When their tears subsided, they pulled away slowly, both red in the face from their tears. Remus reached up and wiped her cheek. His face melted darkly.

"There's blood all over your face," he whispered. Rowan reached up and pulled her fingers away, which were covered with red ooze. She thought of Rosier's parting gift and trembled, remembering the hot gush of wetness from his tongue, the roughness of his cheek, his breath on her face and ear. It was very cold. Remus' gaze softened sadly. He kissed her hair gently.

"We should probably get moving," a voice said.

They pulled away from each other, and Rowan suddenly remembered the rest of her team. She looked around and saw that everyone was accounted for. Sirius had a nasty black eye forming and James had a swollen, bloody lip, but otherwise, everyone looked relatively unharmed. Her chest seared with disbelief – how had they all survived?

"We need to get back to Headquarters. Derek and Fabian should be there by now," Kingsley said quietly. Frank nodded.

"I'm taking Rowan home," Remus said firmly.

Rowan gaped up at him. His gaze was hard on Kingsley with his lips set into a taut line. It was as though he'd completely switched with someone else in a mere second.

Kingsley assessed him quietly before nodding. "Alright," he said quietly. "But you two will need to make a report to Dumbledore tomorrow morning then."

Remus nodded and held Rowan to him tightly. As they watched the others gather themselves and begin to Disapparate, she looked up at him. His eyes burned into hers. The heaviness of his silence made her lips tremble, and she felt him pull her into the void.


	32. Of Crashing Waves

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay! I was going to post yesterday, but I spent the night in the ER because my friend fell after a night out and dragged me down with him, resulting in a good layer of my skin peeling off on the bottom of my foot! Had to get a few stitches, and now I've got a weird, chunky bandaged up appendage, a very sore bloody knee and palms.

But here is the most difficult chapter I've had to write thus far! I've actually been writing the next like 5 chapters for 3 weeks now, but I've hated them and kept rewriting over and over again. This is a big commitment for me to post this. Be gentle.

**Lovirosa:** Thank you SO much for the amazing reviews! To clear the confusion, you wrote a "guest" review first, which means I had to read over it first before it shows up with the other reviews. But it really touched me, more than I can properly express. I'm very humbled that you've enjoyed the story so much thus far to read it in a single day! Your observation about Remus being too protective is spot on, and it will become a major focus soon! As for the "leak" you mentioned, I don't like giving spoilers, but if you're _really_ dying to know, you can shoot me a PM, and we can discuss it there. Thank you again, and I look forward to hearing from you soon! ^^

**misslak:** THANK YOU! I really like writing these action-packed chapters, though they always tend to end badly, don't they? Lots of Remus this chapter!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** I KNOW, RIGHT?! I'm so freaking happy! Thank you for being here through it all! My first reviewer ever, and you're still with me! Thank you again and again!

**TheStarCalledVega:** Hahaha no babies anytime soon, but maybe some action...? Kind of... I hope it appeases your hunger a little!

**missalex3030:** Thank you so much! I love these kinds of chapters too - they're definitely the most fun for me to write, even though they get dark. I really wish I could write more of them, but the story would get really heavy really quickly that way... MORE REMUS NOW!

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32: Of Crashing Waves<strong>

When they arrived on Rowan's front stoop, she felt herself being pulled into her building in a frenzy of hands and force. Remus gripped her wrist tightly, dragging her up the stairs and into her apartment. She noted that it hurt slightly, but it almost seemed like a distant dream. Had she really just been in a battle? The blood on her face was cold now. It was soaked into the shoulder of her black shirt. She knew it was staining her skin beneath.

When he finally pushed her through the door, his hands were a flurry of movement. He was yanking off the Death Eater robes violently, throwing them onto the floor with disgust. The mask was gone, and she was very glad for it. Then he fell on her again, fingers prying at her clothes, tugging at edges and the fastening of her trousers. He pushed the fabric down her legs, peeling them away from her feet with a quick yank. She stumbled slightly from the force of it. Her skin suddenly felt very cold at the exposure.

She watched him blankly as he started to make do of her gloves. She heard a slight ripping noise and knew he'd torn one of them. Then his hands were frantically pulling her shirt, but his fingers and limbs were jolts of clumsiness and panic. He fumbled shakily as he groped for the edge of her shirt, pulling messily but unable to remove it fully.

A calm sort of pity spread through her slowly. She reached up and grasped his wrists lightly. The small touch jerked his head upward. He finally met her gaze, and she felt a small wave of grief wash over her, like she was lying in a pool of lukewarm water. His eyes searched hers frantically. His breath came in rushed bursts from his nose. She kept her gaze steady and exhaled slowly. He seemed to breathe in the air from her lungs. She squeezed his wrists lightly.

"I can do it," she whispered.

His lips twitched, and a flare of anger flickered through his eyes. She wondered why vaguely. But he slowly pulled his hands away from her shirt with what seemed like great effort. There was a tension in his arms, as if it was taking all of his willpower to keep them there. The pool of grief lapped around her gently.

She reached for the hem of her dark shirt and saw how irregularly it had been stretched in Remus' panic. She pulled it gently over her head, strangely unabashed by her nakedness and threw it gently towards her laundry hamper. She noted how detached she felt despite being in her underwear in front of her former lover, covered in patches of drying blood and sweat.

He stood in front of her, deathly still. His eyes scanned over her body heatedly, not with lust but with anger. His gaze burned over her face and then her scars where Evan Rosier's blood was now dried and painted over her skin. The white swirls of her scars blended with the coating of red almost elegantly. It seemed strangely appropriate in a way.

"You should take a shower," he whispered stiffly, eyes still fixed on her form, but not her face.

She nodded weakly and started towards the bathroom but stopped to look at him. She hesitated for a moment but spoke anyway.

"You have blood all over your arms," she said quietly, gesturing at his skin.

He looked down at his hands, which were coated in a mixture of Marlene and Evan Rosier's blood. Beneath his nails were caked crescents of rust and dirt, and his forearms were stained with large splatters of red and brown. He frowned, as if surprised to see it all there. He looked incredibly lost, confused. The pool rose to submerge her further, but she pushed it back. She took one of his hands gently, and before he could protest, she pulled him quietly towards her bathroom.

In the harsh light and bright white tiles, Rowan had to squint slightly. Her eyes had been so adjusted to the dark that it was painful. She moved to turn on the shower. When she turned back around, Remus was looking at the running water with confusion. She noted how odd it was that he looked more dazed than she at all of this. He'd been so certain before she'd interrupted him. Why was he so lost now?

He didn't move, just continued to watch the water, so she moved forward and began to make work of his clothing. As she reached for his trousers, his hands seized hers impulsively. She froze and looked up at him. His eyes were wide, nostrils flaring. She could almost see the fear trickling through his veins.

"I can't," he choked out. "This is- this isn't… We can't…" he babbled nonsensically. The pool submerged her again, lapping at her face. It splashed roughly against her, but she did her best to ignore it.

"Remus, it's just a shower. We've done this hundreds of times. It doesn't have to mean anything," she said quietly.

_But it will always mean something_.

She pressed herself against him slowly, gently, so that their hands were held between their chests with a light pressure. His grip on her wrists loosened. She stepped away from him, and his arms fell back down slowly. She paused a moment and assessed him. The lines in his face were deeper than ever. He looked strangely small.

She ignored the pang in her chest and moved back to his clothing. She pulled his shirt gently, standing on her toes to pull it over his head and tossing it out of the bathroom gently. His arms were coated in red, which shown brightly against his pale skin and the white tiles of the bathroom. It stained all the way up his forearms. Next, she made a move to remove his pants but then realized that he still wore his heavy leather boots and started to lower herself to his feet, but he grabbed her shoulders suddenly.

"Don't," he whispered. She looked at him with slight panic, but then he stooped down low and began to remove them himself. She watched him awkwardly as he untied and loosened the laces of his boots before realizing that she still wore her underwear. She suddenly felt strangely self-conscious but tried to push the discomfort away. She moved her fingers to the edge of her sports bra and peeled it over her head. She noticed the bloodstains caked at the straps as she held it, thick and congealed and already browning. There was no way she would be able to get those stains out.

As she threw it into the trash bin, she noticed that Remus had finished removing his shoes and was staring at her with such a pained expression that her skin seared. His eyes trailed over her longingly, and she wondered for a moment if this was a good idea. But she was too tired to second-guess herself. She'd worry about it in the morning.

She looked away with mild embarrassment but hooked her thumbs into the sides of her underwear and began pulling the small article down her legs. Remus didn't move, and she knew his eyes were following the simple gesture. Her face burned slightly at the knowledge but made no indication that she noticed it. She pulled the elastic from the end of her hair and let the tight braid unravel slowly. Her scalp ached slightly.

As Rowan moved to enter the shower, she paused to look at Remus. His pants were still on. His bare feet poked out from underneath the black fabric. It seemed strangely intimate. He seemed to wake from a trance and looked down at his remaining clothing and began working on it quickly. Her mouth twitched, and she moved into the water.

It was hot, searing. She almost hoped it would burn her skin away and take all of the sins of the night with it. She looked down at her skin and saw several small streams of red and brown dancing through the water and down her legs. They flowed smoothly against the white tub and down the drain. The implications of the blood seemed to weigh down on her slowly.

She had killed someone.

Her hand hadn't been the one to drive the dagger into Evan Rosier's back, but she'd beaten him, tortured him. She'd had every intention of killing him before Bellatrix's attack, hadn't she? She flexed her hands experimentally and felt a sharp ache shoot through her fingers and knuckles. It seared up her arms, and she knew they'd be sore in the morning. She could tell her hands were extremely swollen. She was afraid to look at them.

The memories of Rosier's bones breaking beneath her fists suddenly came rushing back with a wave of nausea. His cheeks had cracked against her knuckles. His skin had torn open as she'd slammed his face into the dirt. She'd shattered his ribs, relished his screams like a symphony. She'd tortured him, watched him writhe in agony without an ounce of regret.

Shouldn't she regret it?

The pool of grief surged forward violently, seeping into her mouth and nostrils. It forced its way into her lungs, and she swallowed it down, forced herself to not choke. The answer was surprisingly clear, like a sliver of light cutting through the dark: She _didn't_.

She was suddenly exhausted. She felt absolutely no remorse, no horror at her own actions. There was a vague, abstract fear of what it implied of her, but as she thought of Evan Rosier's bloodied broken face, the sounds of his shrieks, she only felt emptiness. There was no longer any anger, no satisfaction. It all seemed very meaningless. What did it matter? He was just another Death Eater, and she was just another soldier. Neither of their lives held much weight in the great scheme of things. The war and the world would continue on without them.

_Murderer_.

She watched as Rosier's blood trickled down her arms and dripped onto the tub from her chin. The feeling of his mouth against her cheek seemed to sear itself into her flesh, and her skin crawled at the memory. She thought numbly of the laughter in his eyes even as he laid dead on the ground. She thought of poor Marlene McKinnon's body, which laid so close to his. Had the Ministry found them yet? It was hard to believe that she'd watched them both die in a dark street not even an hour before.

The shower curtain shifted behind her, and she knew that Remus had finally joined her. He didn't move to touch her, not that she'd expected him to, and they stood in silence for a few moments. She kept her head downward, back facing him. The dried blood on her shoulder was still peeling away slowly. She wondered if it still remained on her face too. She saw a new large stream of red flowed past her feet from behind and knew that it came from Remus' arms. Her hair stuck wetly to her skin. She suddenly wanted to cut all of it off.

Finally, she felt a warm hand grasp her arm gently, and she let Remus turn her slowly. His hands held her shoulders firmly. She kept her gaze on his chest, which glistened from the water. He had a new large scar across his sternum that she didn't recognize. Her eyes burned over it, memorizing its angle, its shape. Her fingers itched to touch it.

They stood in silence for a while. Rowan kept her focus on his chest. She wasn't sure where he was looking, but the electric tension in his arms remained. She finally met his gaze then stooped down and picked up the bar of soap. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion as she handed it to him wordlessly. He took it cautiously and just stared at it for a moment before she offered her arm to him.

He looked at her with a firm expression for a moment, but she just gazed back softly. Finally, he seemed to understand and lowered his gaze to her arms, scrubbing her skin with the bar of soap. He started tentatively but eventually worked into a hard rhythm.

His hands worked over her body mindlessly. She watched his face as he moved – the hard look in his eyes remained but it wasn't as pained as before. There was a sort of emptiness behind them. She wondered what he was thinking, _if_ he was thinking at all. His hands paid special attention to the scars on her right shoulder, eyes softening with grief as they trailed over the milky white flesh.

She knew he needed this, and though it made her uncomfortable to have his hands on her in such an intimate way again, it also comforted her to know that she could still offer him something. It was sort of sick, she supposed – their entire relationship. He kept her at arms' length when it was safe, and yet, as soon as she got hurt, he'd be there with frantic hands and eyes. Was it wrong to even let him near her? Wasn't it sort of abusive in a way?

But then he was leaning forward, and before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers. They grazed her gently, like a whisper. She was hesitant to even call it a kiss. She closed her eyes, blind, deaf. The water hit her back rhythmically. It was almost numb. But she felt his hands grip her shoulders tightly and her chest constricted painfully. His lips trailed up her cheeks, over her eyelids. He pulled her in closer to him gently, and the heat between them seared through her chest and spread through her ribs. His lips pressed against her temple firmly. She tilted her head to give him access. He then closed the gap and pulled her against him tightly, wrapping his arms around her. His skin burned against hers, achingly familiar. She felt his breath come shakily, trembling against her.

"Why?" he whispered into her skin. "Why can't I let go of you?"

The grief crashed against her roughly. She weakly let it sweep her away. "Maybe you were never supposed to," she said. She didn't understand her own words. They simply fell from her mouth without thought.

His grip on her tightened almost painfully. Her arms hung limply at her sides though they ached to touch him. She was afraid he would dissolve away with the blood and water.

They stood in silence beneath the water for a small eternity. Rowan felt her grief wash her onto the sharp rocks of the shore. She laid broken at the jagged edges.

Finally, he shifted against her, and she moved slightly to let his arms fall away. She kept her gaze on his chest, careful not to look down at his nakedness or up at his face. She was afraid of how her body would react to either. He reached behind her carefully and turned off the water. She shivered.

He moved out of the shower first, looking around for a towel. She realized vaguely that she only had one out – it was not like there was anyone else bathing there anymore, she thought rather sadly. She saw him slip out of the bathroom quietly and then return with another from her closet. He wrapped her gently in it, wiping away the droplets of water tenderly. His gaze remained on her face, pained but almost resigned. When he was satisfied, he guided her out of the tub. She moved awkwardly, suddenly very aware of his exposed form and her jerky limbs. He pushed her gently out of the bright light of the bathroom, and her eyes worked with great effort to adjust to the darkness of her room. It seemed odd – hadn't she been more comfortable in the dark before?

As she stood in front of her bed naked, wet, and wrapped in her towel, she felt awkward again. He had dried himself off quickly with the second towel but then abandoned it, stalking towards her completely bare. His pale form was illuminated with the light of the bathroom, hair glowing. She noted how gray it had become over the past year around his temples. She had also found quite a few recently in her own dark locks. She'd felt sort of empty at the discovery, almost as she had when she'd first looked at her scars.

His hands were on her again, and before she had time to react, his mouth was pressing against hers insistently. His fingers tangled almost painfully in her wet hair, and his tongue pushed past her lips hungrily. Her lungs clenched painfully as the water crashed into her violently. It pushed down her throat, and as it hit her stomach, she knew it was fear.

But then he pulled away from her, and she stumbled slightly with the recoil, clutching to her towel almost desperately. Her eyes dazedly focused on the sliver of light pouring from her bathroom. Remus was gone.

She looked around frantically then realized he was at her wardrobe, pulling drawers open quietly. He had a pair of her underwear and a baggy t-shirt in his hands. He'd also been able to find a pair of his old boxers that she'd stolen from him while they were at Hogwarts - she'd always loved wearing his clothes. He looked at the articles in his hands with a hard expression. She wasn't sure if she trusted her voice.

He moved back towards her without meeting her gaze. She limply let go of the towel as he pulled it away from her slowly and dropped it to the floor. He tossed both pairs of underwear onto her bed as he pulled the shirt over her head, gingerly pulling her hair from the collar and smoothing it around her face. His hands were so gentle, his expression pained. She wondered where the rough man from just a few moments before had gone. His shifts were still so confusing to her, even after all their years together.

He picked up her underwear from the bed then knelt down next to her. She thought painfully of their old rendezvous in the Hogwarts library study rooms as she stepped into them carefully. But instead of grazing his fingers up her legs as he used to, he was careful not to touch her until he reached her hips. The space between his fingers and her skin resonated loudly. He adjusted them securely but chastely around her then turned and began pulling on his own.

He didn't seem at all perturbed by his nakedness. He moved with an eerie sense of calm that only seemed to heighten her own anxiety in contrast. As he pulled the article over his hips quietly, she admired his long limbs and the wiry tendons in his chest and arms. He was still nearly as thin as he had been as a teenager. She wondered if he'd ever really fill out as James and Sirius had begun to.

When he turned back to her, she stood still, returning his gaze silently. Once again, she couldn't read him. She realized distantly that he'd always been able to read her expressions almost faultlessly and yet she still found herself grasping for straws around him. It didn't seem fair.

But then she found herself being pushed into the bed with him crawling in next to her. The sheets felt cool against her still-wet skin, but her hair stuck unpleasantly to her face. A part of her wondered if she should tell him to go home, but as she felt his hands grip her back, his chest pressed against her cheek, the water crashed into her again. She tiredly let it sweep her painfully over the rocks of the shore. Perhaps he was the wave. Perhaps the white scars that lined his chest were the jagged edge of the rocks. Her eyelids felt very heavy, her hands very sore. She mused that if she were to drown there, it might not be such a bad way to go.

Her breath came evenly, heavily, as he held her. She noted that he was very awake, but she couldn't find it in herself to keep her eyes open. She tried to focus on the small sliver of light that still cut through the darkness from the bathroom, but it all began to blur together. She couldn't find the light, and as she lost her hold of it, her swollen fingers ached dully.


	33. Of Ever-Reaching Hands

**A/N**: Feeling a little nostalgic. It's just a little short interlude between chapters really. There's some **lightly ****implied** **rated M **stuff here, but not really - it's super subtle. The chapter isn't important to the plot so you can skip over it if you want, but it strangely seemed appropriate. I really enjoyed writing it.

**S38:** Thank you so much! So good to hear from you! ^_^

**missalex3030:** Thank you! I'm glad someone is still in love with him because I'm about to kill him and Rowan for being so difficult to write in the next chapter.

**misslak:** Thank you! I agree - I don't think it's healthy at all, and I'd definitely leave if I were in her place too. I think Rowan will need some convincing too.

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Sorry for the wait! Sorry, no sex for a while haha.

**lovirosa:** Thank you so much for your concern, but I'm doing fine! I actually just removed my stitches today, so I'm healing up really well! And maybe the walls will break down soon...? Sort of...

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33: Of Ever-Reaching Hands<strong>

Remus lay on his stomach on top of his four-poster bed in just his pajamas. It was a warm Sunday morning and bright light seeped in through the windows of Gryffindor Tower like liquid gold. He noted that certain parts of the room were blank, but it didn't seem odd at all [_shouldn't there be a poster above Sirius' bed?_]. He was propped on his stomach and elbows with a large textbook in front of him, grateful for the emptiness of the room – it was finally quiet for once. He felt the book in his hands, the pages against his fingertips, but it still seemed very distant. He knew he was reading the material, but he couldn't seem to comprehend the information that poured into his eyes. Weren't some of the formulas here wrong? Well, it didn't matter much, he supposed [_but shouldn't it matter?_].

Suddenly, there was a soft pressure on his back. He knew, rather than felt, that it was heavy. He felt warm. There was a rhythmic tapping on the back of his calf, echoing throughout his chest, and he understood that it was an array of small toes. He smiled at the sensation - when had he last felt so happy?

"Lupin, why on earth are you _studying_? I'm needy – pay attention to me," a voice pouted. It echoed behind him, above him, beneath him. He smiled fondly. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see anything except for a white expanse. The voice seemed to paint an out-of-body picture.

But then he was on his back with his hands resting on her thighs. When had he flipped over? She straddled him playfully, eyes dancing in the spring light. She. Her. Rowan. It seemed very normal for her to be a regular character in his musings. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone a day without thinking of her. When had she become such a fixture in his dreams? [_This must be dream. He didn't touch her like this anymore._]

Her hair was tied messily on her head [_or was it down?_]. She wore a baggy t-shirt [_his of course_]. He liked the way it hung from her thin form, how her breasts peaked subtly beneath it [_how he loved to see her cheeks redden when he told her_]. But hanging from her hips were a pair of shorts he didn't remember seeing on her. They looked familiar.

He looked down and saw that he wore the same pair, and he suddenly understood that both were his [_but he'd known, even before he'd seen them_]. She watched his face with amusement, toying with the elastic of his boxers idly. His body stirred slightly at the feeling of her small fingers grazing his lower stomach [_"This might be my favorite spot on you, Remus"]_.

"Rowan, why are you wearing my clothes?" he drawled. Even his own voice was felt, rather than heard. He wanted to glare but knew he couldn't. His face strained with the effort to not smile at this imp of a girl. She grinned. He felt it in his chest, through his fingers. She was so warm.

"You don't think they look good on me?" she asked, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. His mouth twitched with amusement. He was suddenly aware of the swell of her thighs beneath his hands. He squeezed experimentally [_how long had it been?_].

"Don't try to act cute. I should report you for theft. Then everyone will know that you're a pervert who steals other people's underwear," he teased. She grinned devilishly [_he'd sell his soul to her in an instant_].

"I can take them off then if you want. I suppose I'll just have to bear the humiliation of being seen in my knickers as I return to the girls' dorm. Imagine how embarrassing it'll be to have all the other boys see me in such a compromising position," she said slowly. Her eyes burned through him. Her thumbs hooked into the elastic waistband of her boxers teasingly [_but they were really his, as was she_]. He watched her slide them down her hips slowly. A soft swell of flesh rose up from beneath [_he could taste her there, the feeling of her hips as they trembled against him_].

Suddenly, he was sitting up, fingers in her hair, on her hips, pushing the elastic down, the shirt up. He pressed his mouth against hers, but her lips seemed to elude him. There wasn't enough pressure. The softness of her mouth wasn't there like it always was. His teeth were at her neck [_he loved the way her pale skin reddened_], and her voice reverberated through him [_each whimper was a taunt, soft encouragement to hear his name again_].

Her skin was bare to him, all of the clothing gone from her form. He was inside her, beneath her, above her [_she crawled beneath his skin_]. Her body seemed to melt into him. He moved her so easily, like water [_but wasn't she more like air?_].

"I like wearing your clothes," she whispered.

She was in his arms, but he couldn't feel her. Her eyes shot through him, golden and glowing and burning. James and Peter's beds were gone. The door was missing. There was so much white space and amber and skin. Her sooty eyelashes were on his face, rosy cheeks pressed against his hands. Her voice grazed him, restrained him with his arms pinned down to the bed [_he'd always been her prisoner, from day one_].

"It's like I'm wrapped in you," she echoed.

He groaned. Her hair trailed up his arms, covered his eyes. It hung around them both. Sunlight illuminated it like a wall of dark fire. He wanted to stay there forever, asleep in this world made for them.

"It's like I belong to you."

He wasn't sure if it was her voice anymore or his. His senses swam dizzily with her. Her eyes pierced through him painfully, her fingers simultaneously everywhere at once. Her hair mixed with his. She was covering him with her, drowning him [_oh, punish me_].

"But I don't anymore, do I?"

He opened his eyes [_when had he closed them?_], and she was gone. He knew his arms were there, but he couldn't find them. He sat on their hill, still wrapped in his sheets, but there was no sun, no trees, no lake. He looked around frantically for her, but he couldn't find her anywhere. She'd melded into his being, wrapped herself with him, but he felt incredibly empty. His fingers looked so much longer, so thin ["_I've always loved your hands, Remus"_]. They seemed to stretch forever into the distance. He didn't know where they were reaching.

_You've left me behind_.

She was so far away. The grass dissolved beneath him, but he didn't fall. He just faded away with it. Perhaps he'd find her there in the next dream as well.


	34. Of the Battle's Remains

**A/N**: Decided I'm sick of this entire episode and just want it to be done with. This one was just as hard to write as Chapter 32. It took me like 2 weeks to write this the first time and then I rewrote it another several times. UGH.

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34: Of the Battle's Remains<strong>

Remus stared up at the ceiling. Yellow morning played across its smooth surface. He knew it wasn't the ceiling of the Gryffindor boys' dorm. The walls were very solid, his limbs very heavy. Even the sunlight that splashed across the walls seemed to hold weight in comparison to the effervescent air of his dream. There was pain in his skin, a restriction of his form. His limbs ached from one joint to the next.

He sat up quickly, lungs searing. The space next to him was empty. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't his bed.

_Rowan._

He threw the covers off in a swift flick and leapt from the bed. The wooden floor was shockingly cold for the late summer morning, and the space around him vibrated with painful silence. The soles of his feet seemed to crack against the cold as he stumbled around the room in his panic.

"Rowan!" he called out. He flinched at the sound of his own voice. It felt very foreign, almost alien – unwelcome.

But she wasn't there. Every piece of the room spoke of her with sprawling books and papers lying about. Her clothes from the night before were scattered around the floor, and her scent lingered, but it felt like a phantom of her. His eyes fell upon her wand, which lay listlessly on the floor.

A frigid chill shot up his spine.

He was pulling his pants on before he could stop himself, arms and legs jerking wildly through what seemed like a labyrinth of cloth. He had to find her. How could she have left by herself? She couldn't be out there alone without him. How the hell could she have left her wand behind? He needed to be there! What if Death Eaters were around looking for them? What if they found her?

But as he stumbled towards the door and his shoes, he heard the sound of shifting from behind him. He spun around and saw a dark mass of hair peeking up beside the bed from the floor. Relief and confusion washed over him with a forceful wave. He felt his legs sweeping towards her rapidly and loudly.

She was in his arms, mouth pressing against her cheeks and sleep-filled eyes. She was so warm.

"Thank god," he breathed. "Oh, thank god."

* * *

><p>Rowan had woken with a jolt at dawn, heart pounding painfully in her chest and adrenaline searing through her blood. Her limbs felt so heavy, so tired, but she couldn't lie still. Remus' arms still held her.<p>

It was suffocating. Her face and neck were covered in a sticky film of sweat and fear, which stuck to both of their skin and the covers. She wanted to peel her flesh away, burn off all of her hair as it clung to her skin like sucking leeches. Her hands were tangled in it. She screamed out in frustration as she flailed and kicked, not caring if Remus woke up as well. She almost wanted him to. Her muscles screamed with the need to tear and break.

She couldn't breathe. His arms were so much heavier than hers. Her muscles ached and screamed as she pried his hands off of her, and by the time she freed herself, her eyes burned with hot angry tears. She pushed herself away from him and nearly toppled off her side of the bed in her panic. She needed to get away from him; needed air; needed water. Her throat burned.

She rolled out from the covers and onto the floor with a dull thud, relishing the smoothness of the wooden boards. She curled up on the floor and released a shaky sob, breath rattling against her teeth. Her nails dug into the grooves of the wood painfully. She wanted to peel them away along with her skin. The floor beneath her dug painfully into her hips and shoulders as she lay on her side, but it was warm. The hardness of the surface was grounding, comforting almost. It fought back against her joints and bones, and she relished it. She wanted to feel her frame shatter against it.

Stretching her fingers experimentally, Rowan felt her swollen knuckles creak and crackle with palms flat on the floor. She noted that her hands were purple and yellow and red and held a strange, heavy warmth. The coolness of the wood soothed them slightly. She wanted to melt into it, feel her bones meld into the grooves and into the floors below. How beautiful it would be to become a building, a house. Would it be a happier existence?

She felt the wet splattering of blood on her shoulder and the glow of blonde hair in the moonlight and gasped raggedly. Her throat tightened as she thought of the way her knuckles had cracked against shattering bones and rough concrete. Her entire body trembled. A dark voice whispered somewhere from the recesses of her mind.

"_Rowan!"_

She jerked awake. When had she fallen asleep again? She felt the vibration of the floor beneath her, rattling against her bones and teeth and panicked momentarily before realizing that it was Remus.

Remus – she'd forgotten he was there. Where was she? Oh, the floor – should she get up? She should tell him she was there, that she hadn't gone out alone. He must be afraid right now, she thought vaguely. It was cruel to let him keep panicking, wasn't it? But she couldn't find her voice.

Slowly, she tested her hands against the floor and pressed her palms into it. It felt like the ground was being pushed away from her rather than her body pushing upward. Her head swam dizzily as she sat up and stumbled slightly, catching herself against the bed frame noisily. The storm of footsteps stopped and then stampeded towards her, and before she could reorient herself, she was caught in a downpour of arms.

Once again, she was being swept away by the sea. She couldn't breathe. Perhaps she had become the water. Perhaps she'd grown gills overnight and needed the water. But no, it was Remus - _he_ was the water; always had been. She had always clung blindly for every drop of him she could hold onto, but no matter how much she held, he always slipped through her fingers. And now, here he was again, sweeping her out to sea to drown.

"Thank god. Oh, thank god," she heard him breathe into her skin. His mouth was pressing against her everywhere. She was suffocating. Her head thudded dully with pain. Her skin burned. She managed to find register on her hands and pushed firmly against him as she had with the floor.

"Remus," she gasped. She flailed and jerked, but it was as if he couldn't hear her.

"Remus!" said louder, but he continued to hold her tightly in a vice grip. Her lungs burned.

"Remus, _let go!"_ she shouted, shoving him hard with a frustrated cry.

Finally, she was able to wrestle out of his grasp and fell away back against the bedframe with a painful thud. She scooted away from him quickly so that they sat a few feet apart. He sat on his knees, looking confused and hurt. Her face stung with a strange mixture of shame and anger, though she wasn't sure of the reasons for either.

Rowan's chest heaved as her lungs filled with cool air. The panicked suffocating feeling she'd had started to drip away slowly, and she took the time to assess the room around her. It looked exactly the same as it had before she'd left for the mission at Lestrange Manor. She'd somehow expected it to be different – she was almost disappointed that it wasn't.

Remus sat very still in front of her. His hair glowed in the yellow morning light, his scars shining white against his pale skin. He only wore his dark pants from the night before, and she suddenly felt very embarrassed, though she knew there was no reason for it. A muscle in his jaw twitched with effort, and his eyes were shining with hurt. A deep part of her ached desperately for something, but she couldn't be sure what.

They sat in silence as she caught her breath. She didn't know what to say to him, and he seemed to be as equally lost for words.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She couldn't meet his eye. "I just… I..." she trailed off. She looked around weakly for a reason, but she could find none. Her thoughts fell away like sand as soon as she grasped them.

They sat in silence again until he shifted and moved towards her hesitantly. She could feel the weight of his hand in the air between them as he reached for her, and she flinched noticeably as he touched her. She couldn't bear to look at him, to see the hurt in his features. She wanted to scream, burn away the skin where he'd touched her. She was dirty, filthy. Weren't they all?

_Murderer_.

She trembled violently. Images of blonde hair and wide red mouths flashed through her mind, and her stomach was immediately in her lungs. She spun wildly to the side as the contents of her stomach threatened to rush up her throat, choking and gasping, but she forced the sickness back down. Hot shameful tears sprang to her eyes. She was disgusting – how could she do this in front of Remus? What was _wrong_ with her?

Her diaphragm spasmed slightly as she fought for air. Perhaps she really had drowned and swallowed the sea. She saw drops falling from her cheeks onto the wooden floor. She felt the overwhelming shame overcome her as her tears splashed and bounced, and when gentle fingers began to pull her hair from her face, tying it back softly, her entire body shook and trembled. The feeling of Remus' warm hands on her back and tense neck muscles made her want to scream with self-disgust.

_Murderer._

Rowan could feel the bubbling gushing of blood and saliva on her cheek as Evan Rosier smeared his wet mouth across her face. She could see the light leave Marlene McKinnon's eyes and the vibration of the ground as her body hit it. She wanted to scream, to peel her skin away and cut her hair off. She was filthy. She wanted to burn it all away.

Finally, her tears and sobs subsided, but his hands remained on her. Her body still trembled slightly, but her lungs no longer burned; her eyes were no longer blinded with tears. With a wave of her hand, the small pool of shame vanished. She rested her hands on the floor in front of her as her knees dug into the wood painfully, but she savored the ache.

"I'm fine now," she whispered.

Remus' hand stopped suddenly. The silence between them was heavy for a moment but then he moved to grip her arm, pulling her towards him. Panic seized her again and she yanked her arm away from him quickly.

"Don't," she blurted. She still couldn't look at him. She couldn't bear the thought of him touching her even more.

"Winnie, please," he whispered, fingers hovering over her with need. But she pulled away from him and moved to her feet quickly, staggering slightly under the weight of her own frame as the world shifted around her. He also stood, quickly grabbing her arms to steady her, but she once again jerked away from him.

"Don't!" she growled. Remus' face twisted with frustration.

"Winnie, just let me help you!" he protested. He held her firmly this time so that she couldn't pull away, but she yanked her arms wildly anyway.

"Leave me alone!" she cried out indignantly. She flailed and wrestled against him with grunting effort, but he held fast and strong to her wrists.

"Rowan. Stop it! _Stop!_" he barked, but she continued to fight him. He saw red. He shook her violently in his rage, the dark voice within him roaring deafeningly.

"I said, STOP!"

Rowan's body immediately ceased its flailing with wide, eyes. But they weren't fearful – they were angry. Her chin shot upward, eyes burning into him with barely contained fury. Remus leaned back as if afraid of her.

"Where the fuck do you get off?" she seethed. He flinched at the venomous tone of her voice. She felt vindicated by it. "You have no right to tell me what to do! None!" she shouted. "Why don't you mind your own god damn business? Leave me the fuck alone!"

His gaze darkened. Rowan noted somewhere in the recesses of her mind that she should be afraid, but she was too angry, too furious, to respond to the nagging voice. She wanted to feel breaking and tearing beneath her knuckles again. She wanted her hands to ache even more.

"You _are_ my god damn business!" he spat. He held her wrists almost painfully tight, but she refused to budge. She held his gaze fiercely. "_E__verything_ you do is my business. I'm not going anywhere, so just _shut up!"_

Rowan's entire body shook with rage. "_How dare you?_" she shouted. She beat her fists desperately against his chest, but he held her tightly. She screamed with frustration. "You have no right! NONE! You're not my father, not my boyfriend. I don't fucking know _what _you are, but you have absolutely _no right!_"

She wanted to beat him senseless, feel the cracking of his bones against her hands. Her mind was a blank slate of rage and blind fury. Her limbs seemed to burn with fire in her blood as she screamed and flailed. She even resorted to kicking him, but he simply absorbed her blows with nothing more than a few grunts of pain. She tried to take him down to the floor with her, but he stood strong and tall. Her entire body roared with anger. She wanted him to feel it.

Her skin was suddenly burning and wet, and she realized with horror that she was crying again. Face burning with shame, her entire frame seemed to go rigid as she felt the tears trickling down her cheeks. She quickly averted her face to hide it from Remus' eyes.

But he noticed. He always noticed.

"Winnie," he breathed. He moved them to the bed and sat her down, quickly releasing her wrists, which seemed to ignite as the blood rushed back into them. His hands were suddenly on her face, cradling her cheeks gently. The dark rage was gone from his eyes, replaced with panic. Her body went limp.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" he rambled fearfully, but she shook her head and pushed him away again. His eyes filled with hurt.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" she choked. His hands held hers gently. The soft touch made her skin crawl with shame.

She had just wanted to hurt _him!_ She'd wanted to hurt him the same way she'd hurt _Rosier!_ What was wrong with her? Hadn't she already done enough?

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I just… I need you to be safe. I-I panicked. It was selfish to force my feelings on you. I'm sorry, Winnie. Please, just-"

"You don't get it," she spat. He looked at her fearfully. A dark, shameful part of her relished it. She held his gaze with hard eyes. "This isn't about you. None of this has to fucking do with you!"

His eyes widened with hurt, but her blood boiled away any regret that formed. She would see this through. She'd make him see how ugly she was.

"I killed someone last night," she snarled. His eyes widened, grip loosening slightly on her. Her hands stung as the blood rushed through her black and blue fingers.

"I killed someone, and now you're here and I don't fucking know what the hell is going on! I can't breathe or think o-or see! I just want - I need - _Why are you even here? I don't know what you fucking want from me!_" she spat.

_I wanted to hurt you too._ Her blood felt cold.

And there she was - the husk, the end of sickness.

"There is nothing here for you to save anymore," she breathed.

The air seemed to drip away from her lungs, but she didn't need it. It seemed to leave a stream of ice in its wake. No - it had been forming for a long time. She'd finally just noticed it, like a long-hidden plague. Burning it away _would_ be the best decision.

"You're wasting your time. You should just… leave me alone."

She pulled her hands from his grasp and turned her face away from him. Everything seemed to pull from her slowly, sucking from her veins and stomach. She wanted him gone. She wanted everyone gone. She wanted to sleep forever. The silence washed over her heavily, pulling her eyelids down with it. She was so tired, so sore. She wanted to drown in the silence.

But then he grabbed her hands again.

"W-wh-" she sputtered, but she was cut off as Remus' mouth pressed hotly to hers. Her cheeks seared red and her hands fought against him, but he held her tightly, holding her hands against his chest with fingers wrapped around her wrists. She twisted her head away, peeling her mouth from his.

"Remus, what are-" she gasped.

"You will always be worth saving," he whispered.

She froze. His mouth rested against her jaw, head pressed to her cheek. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, which only seemed to highlight her own ragged breathing in contrast. She wanted to pull away from him but couldn't seem to feel her arms and legs. Her ears roared deafeningly.

He pulled away slowly from her, pressing his lips against her neck, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Her lips trembled as she felt her eyes well up hotly again, and her mind screamed insults at her for her weakness. He drew her hands up to his mouth and pressed his lips against her swollen, bruised knuckles. She trembled with humiliation.

"There is no part of you that will ever be dirty to me," he whispered against her fingers. The tears fell. "You can beat me, insult me – even hate me. I will always be here to take the blows for you or from you – whatever you desire, whatever you need. Do you understand?"

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and her chest clenched painfully. His eyes glowed green and brown in the morning light, and his words filled her lungs slowly and fully, stretching them almost to the point of pain. Her tears were falling freely now; she couldn't stop them. His gaze seemed to pierce through her sharply. She wanted to tear her eyes from his face but couldn't find control over anything.

Hesitantly, painfully slow, Remus leaned forward. One of his hands released hers, but she couldn't pull away. It slid into her hair, grasping the nape of her neck gently, and his lips were pressing against hers again. They slid over her skin, pressed against her forehead, her cheeks. His heat was everywhere. She couldn't breathe.

"No," she gasped. "You don't-"

"But I do," he breathed. Her limbs froze, turned to stone. She felt so heavy against him. His hands gripped her tightly again. She thought his body might swallow her.

"I completely understand. I know what it's like... to be blinded, consumed by anger. I know how frightening, how horrifying it is... I know what it's like to be overwhelmed with the desire to hurt people... even those I love." Tears fell from her eyes again. Her entire body shook.

"We all have our demons. Yours have just screamed louder than most."

Her chest clenched painfully as she choked on her own breath. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, and before she could protest, he'd pulled her into his lap so that she straddled him. His hands burned up her back and held her tightly against him, cradling her small form against his chest and burying his face in her hair.

"You are not defined by the darkness inside of you, Rowan."

Rowan gasped against his skin, clinging to him desperately. His skin burned through hers, scalded her painfully. He was much too good to her, too kind. She wanted to laugh bitterly as he spoke such lovely words to her that he couldn't seem to understand for himself. It was cruel.

Her fingers dug into his skin, but he didn't pull away. She wondered vaguely if she was hurting him, but she needed to be closer, to feel all of him. She was desperate to press every inch of herself against him.

"You're so stupid," she whispered into his shoulders. She held him even more tightly, if possible. "Y-you… Why can't you see…?"

He squeezed her against him, and she felt his own chest tremble. It vibrated through her ribs and into her heart. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm trying."

She didn't know how long they stayed there or even when he moved her into the bed. She couldn't remember when she fell asleep. He was around her, above her, beneath her. She breathed him in and, for the first time in ages, slept dreamlessly. Time blurred noiselessly.

When she woke, she knew he was gone even before opening her eyes, and she cried quietly into the space he'd left in her bed, wishing to grip the scent of him in her fingers. She didn't know when or where he'd gone. She could almost believe he hadn't been there to begin with, if it weren't for the few stray gray hairs that were left on her pillows. She couldn't imagine the thoughts in his head, couldn't imagine his feelings. She hadn't felt so far away from him in ages. The dark voice in her was silent again, but it left a void so empty, so deep, that all of her thoughts seemed to echo within it endlessly.

She curled up in her sheets and willed herself back to sleep – alone – just like she had wanted. Silence had never felt like such a burden.


	35. Of Precious Moments with Precious People

**A/N**: Straight talk from Dumbledore and the Potters. They haven't gotten enough screen time recently anyway. Maybe Sirius will make an appearance soon too.

**missalex3030:** Ok, now you're just setting yourself up for disappointment haha. I've already written something of the sort, but I wouldn't call it "epic"... Maybe less of a bang and more of a sizzle? But thanks for still being excited! I know I've been leading all of you on for a while now with these two.

**S38:** Hahaha sorry, but maybe soon...? And good question, but no, not yet. He'll make an appearance soon though.

**MorningThief:** Hello, and thank you so much! It's great to hear from another reader, and I'm so happy you're enjoying it! Thank you for the incredibly kind review!

**snuffles95:** Thank you so much as always! It's always wonderful hearing from you ^_^

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** I'll leave that up to you to interpret hehe. And 5 days seems to be the trend lately, doesn't it? It's not on purpose - it just seems to be the way I've been feeling recently about updating. Thanks for being there, as always!

**lovirosa:** Haha thank you, thank you! And soon! Be patient with me!

**REVIEW MEEEEEE PLEEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35: Of Precious Moments with Precious People<strong>

The Order of the Phoenix met two days after the tragic mission in Wigtown to discuss what had happened and their next steps. It was a particularly grave meeting as the mission had been a great blow to their morale, even if it had been a great victory on paper. Even Dumbledore was present.

Marlene's body had been recovered by the Ministry - much to everyone's relief - along with the rest of the fallen Death Eaters. Seven had been arrested while another four had been found dead, including Evan Rosier. The massacre had been enough to earn a search warrant for Lestrange Manor, but nothing of sufficient suspicion could be found, not even Bellatrix's dagger, which had disappeared from Rosier's body. They assumed that the McKinnons' parents' bodies had been disposed of in some way before the Ministry officials had arrived. Rowan wondered painfully where they were.

Derek McKinnon had been unresponsive since being rescued. He had also been tortured and questioned, though not nearly to the same extent as his sister it seemed. The worst physical damage had been done to Marlene, but every gash and cut put into her skin seemed to now be engraved in his heart. He remained in St. Mungo's, unseeing and unhearing. Rowan had gone to see him earlier that day, but he hadn't even acknowledged the Healers, let alone his visitors. The disgust she felt with herself nearly doubled.

The Order discussed what had gone wrong, and it was agreed that nothing could have been done really to save Marlene. The McKinnons had been too injured to ensure a flawless rescue – they'd simply been too late. The Aurors within the group reported that Abraham Avery Jr. was pleading the Imperius Curse, which was becoming an increasingly popular excuse as the Death Eaters had been using it more often as of late. Many of his fellow Death Eaters seemed to be following his example. Rowan saw Minerva McGonagall bristle slightly at Avery's name and hold a hand to the high collar of her robes. She wondered if the bruises around her neck had fully healed.

Finally, at the end of the meeting, McGonagall and Dumbledore nodded to Rowan, and she stood nervously. Her hands trembled as all eyes were on her, and she was suddenly reminded of her father's funeral. But this was no noble eulogy – it was a declaration of cowardice.

"Hi, everyone," Rowan said quietly. She already felt her courage waning, but she forced her head to remain up with great effort, though she kept her gaze on the far wall.

"I wanted to apologize… for my behavior during the mission the other night," she breathed shakily. "I went against protocol and placed all of you in unspeakable danger. It was inexcusable, and I can't apologize to you enough. I'm just… so, so sorry," she apologized sadly. Her voice trembled, and her body seemed to bow with effort. Her head finally dropped in shame. She gazed at the polished tabletop with heat at the back of her throat.

"Rowan, there's nothing to apologize for," an even voice called out from down the table. It was Arthur Weasley. He peered down the table at her calmly, and she felt even more ashamed at the sight of her partner – she'd endangered him especially, _again_.

"Yes, you did go against protocol, and it was incredibly foolish, but we understand. You acted to protect Sirius, and Evan Rosier deserved what he got. None of us have the right to be angry. I think any of us would have made the same decision had we been in your place," he reasoned gently. His eyes crinkled warmly, and Rowan wanted to curl up and disappear in the face of his kindness.

"Yeah, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't even be here. You saved my life, Winnie," Sirius said firmly. A few small murmurs in agreement echoed around, but Rowan was still afraid to lift her head. Just because the more sympathetic members understood didn't mean that they weren't all okay with what happened. Moody was probably furious with her. Her face still burned with shame.

"I… Even so, I need to apologize... And I'd like to request to be taken off of the higher risk missions for the time being," she said shakily.

A series of indignant shouts were heard down the table from James, Sirius, and the Prewett brothers. McGonagall pounded the table for order. Rowan felt her face burn hotly and kept her eyes downward. Her chest ached with shame, but she stayed resolute. She lifted her head hesitantly to look at McGonagall. The older woman's lips were pursed tightly as she gazed at her searchingly.

"Are you sure about this, Delacroix? You've been an invaluable member to the high-intensity team. Surely, you won't be satisfied with the low-risk missions," she said carefully. She eyed the younger woman seriously, but Rowan shook her head.

"I know," she said quietly. "I know. It's just that I… I'm not in a right state after what happened. I- with Rosier… I nearly…" she trailed off. _I killed him_, she thought. It echoed through her chest. She breathed shakily.

"I just need some time to gather my thoughts before I can trust myself as a member of this team again. I need to know that I won't be jeopardizing the rest of your lives as well. I'd still like to be involved with the less critical missions and I'll even take on more night patrol shifts to make up for it, but I can't handle the thought of more dangerous operations for right now… I'm really sorry…" she said weakly. Her head fell again.

The other members remained silent for a moment, and she kept her gaze downward. She couldn't bear to look at her friends, who were all so much braver than she. She was a right coward. Her father would be ashamed to call her a Gryffindor.

"Well, if you feel that way, then I suppose we must trust your judgment. I will reassign you to the lower intensity missions for now in the meantime," Dumbledore said quietly. She looked up with surprise to see the old wizard gazing at her softly. He rarely came to meetings and even more rarely spoke in discussions, leaving the debates to the rest of them and speaking only as moderator and the final judge. Her face burned. There could be no greater shame than admitting cowardice to the greatest wizard of the age. He gazed at her gently over his half-moon spectacles.

"But just know that the darkness you feel isn't abnormal, Rowan. It's a voice that lies in all of us and is something we must all confront during these dark times. You are not alone when you fear the terrible things that of which you are capable. And it's the doubt, the abhorrence you feel in the face of those impulses that set you apart from the true villains. There is darkness in all of us, but there is always light to cut through it. Do not doubt the good that is in you, or it will tear you apart," he said seriously.

Rowan was sure that her cheeks would burn away. Dumbledore spoke the same words that Remus had the other night, but for some reason, despite all of her awe and reverence for the older man, she felt nothing but humiliation and a stab of anger in hearing them from him. She wished she could disappear.

"Evil men like Evan Rosier will always walk this earth," he continued quietly. "And they will hold mirrors up to your face that will make you question everything you've ever thought to be true – even your own nature. You will see things that will shock and even disgust you, but I assure you that the reflection there is a distorted reality. What you see is not how the rest of the world views you or how you should view yourself. You are much stronger, much better than what you make yourself out to be."

Rowan's throat constricted at Dumbledore's words. He looked at her knowingly, and she knew somehow that he could hear her thoughts. He smiled softly. She grimaced – he certainly heard them.

"Sometimes we lose sight of ourselves, and the only people who can guide you back are those who care about you. Do not close yourself off, Rowan. Take the time you need, but make sure to come back home to your family here. We'll be waiting for you when you're ready."

Her throat tightened painfully, but it was less severe than before. She still felt empty, but she tried to push the feeling away. She nodded.

"Thank you, Professor."

* * *

><p>As the meeting ended, Rowan stood slowly from the table, letting the rest move from the dining room before she made her way to leave. She felt Remus' gaze burn into her from across the room and a terrible ache spread through her gut. She hadn't seen him since she'd woken up to find him gone two days before, and the last thing she wanted was to speak to him now. She didn't even know what to say, or how to think of their relationship at all. The thought of being alone with him made her stomach hit her throat with nausea. She just wanted to leave. She wanted him to leave her alone. She wanted to disappear.<p>

But just as he moved towards her, her maelstrom of dark thoughts was interrupted.

"Oy, Winnie!" a voice called out from down the table.

Her head jerked up and saw James walking over towards her briskly. Warm relief washed over her like spring sunlight.

"Let me walk you home," he said firmly. His gaze was hard. It startled her momentarily. He then turned to Remus. "Can you make sure Lily gets home okay? I need to talk to this one," he said.

Remus' mouth held a tight line. He glanced down at Rowan, but she kept her gaze averted with embarrassment. She could feel his eyes burn into her. His gaze hardened minutely before turning back to James and nodding solemnly. James clapped him on the shoulder, and the light-haired man moved down the table towards Lily.

Rowan looked up at James warily. He smiled warmly at her.

"Ready?" he asked. She nodded and they set out together. He gripped her hand as they stepped out into the warm night, and she guided them both into the void.

* * *

><p>"So what did you want to talk about?" she asked quietly as they walked down her street. She'd Apparated them a little further than she and Remus usually walked to allow them more time to talk. She imagined he was going to interrogate her and was waiting almost resignedly for the verbal barrage. They walked slowly with eyes focused ahead.<p>

"I just wanted to see if you were okay," he said softly. She smiled almost wryly to herself.

"Yeah, I guess," she said. "I just need some time to myself to reflect on everything. The last mission was overwhelming."

James nodded gravely but didn't respond. They walked in silence for a few moments. Rowan looked up at the sky – she couldn't see the moon. She should use her time away from the Order to work.

"Have you talked to Barty recently?" he asked carefully. Rowan sighed tiredly.

"No, not for about five days or so," she said. She hadn't thought of Barty since before the mission in Wigtown. He was yet another man she dreaded speaking to.

James nodded. "What're you going to do about him?" he asked.

"I suppose I'll end our arrangement," she said softly. "No use in keeping it up anymore… now that Rosier's gone." She felt surprisingly empty at the thought – yet another failed relationship with a seemingly compatible man.

"Would you ever consider getting back together with Remus?" James asked.

Rowan's mouth twitched with bitter amusement. She thought hard about the question. It weighed down heavily on her like a burden.

"I don't know," she admitted. He looked at her with mild confusion, and she smiled thinly. "I don't know what to think anymore or if I even want to be with him. I still love him but…" She thought for a moment if it would be good idea to tell James her insecurities. He'd always been fiercely protective over her, even going so far as to pick fights with Remus when he didn't agree with their relationship. Remus certainly didn't need any more stress.

She nearly laughed. How could she still be worrying about him after he'd essentially left her again? It was cruel how her mind always considered his feelings first.

"But…?" James urged. She sighed.

"I'm beginning to think that perhaps he might just be in love with the idea of me and not who I actually am," she admitted softly. James' brows furrowed with confusion. "I think he sees me more as something to be protected, something abstractly good. Sometimes I wonder if being with him, even as a friend, is actually doing him more harm than good. I mean, most of our relationship has been based on longing at this point – doesn't that show how bad we are together in reality?"

She looked up at the sky again sadly. It felt empty to hear the words solidify after they'd been brewing in her darkest thoughts for so long. The sky was strangely empty as well. Her chest ached dully.

"What?" James asked incredulously. He gaped at her. She almost found it amusing. He stopped in his tracks, and she turned to look at him. The sparks in his gaze were unsettling.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" he asked. The sharpness of his tone gave her pause. She watched him warily.

"I don't know what to believe," she said honestly, shrugging slightly.

She looked away dazedly and gazed at one of the nicer apartment buildings on her street. One of the windows had an arrangement of yellow chrysanthemums in the windowsill – an autumnal flower. It was still unbearably humid, but she realized fall was approaching once again. Her arm tingled slightly – it had nearly been a year since she'd received those scars.

It had nearly been a year since Remus had left her.

"I think that's bull shit," James declared suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. She eyed him carefully but didn't respond.

"I know I can't possibly understand all the workings of your relationship," he finally said slowly, "but I can't believe that Remus would be so short-sighted and selfish to drag you on like this out of some vague obsession for your more abstract qualities, and if you feel that way, you should say something to him." His gaze was burning, but she only felt mildly warm. She took in his words almost numbly. They sounded very nice, but she knew that James' world was much more black and white than hers. Hers was stained red and green, which mixed muddily throughout.

Rowan sighed. "He hasn't been 'dragging me on' though," she countered lightly. The yellow blossoms in the windowsill hadn't bloomed fully. She found it disheartening – would it be this hot for much longer?

"We've been broken up for nearly a year now," she said softly, perhaps to herself mostly. James' expression still remained hard. "There's really nothing to discuss about us getting back together. Even if he still loves me, he's made it clear that we won't be crossing that line again."

She kept her gaze on the flowers. She thought of the flowers Barty would bring her and the way each bouquet had slowly died in its vase. She realized the monkshood blossoms still remained on her kitchen counter. She should throw those out soon too.

"That doesn't mean anything," James protested. Rowan looked back at him tiredly. He glared hard at her.

"I know you don't believe me," he said petulantly. She almost smiled guiltily at him. "I mean it though. He's always been in love with you. We all see it, even if you don't. If anyone was ever meant to be together, it was you two," he said fervently.

She wanted to laugh. Surely he was talking about himself and Lily? She felt her lips twitch with bitter amusement.

"No, James, I-" she started.

"No, shut up," he spat. She gaped at him with confusion and mild hurt. He hadn't spoken to her so harshly in years. It stung lightly in her chest.

"A lot has happened between you two over the past couple of years, and Remus is more fucked up than most," he said angrily. His eyes flashed dangerously. "But you, of all people, should know that he's more genuine and honest than anyone else. If he says he loves you, then he fucking loves you. What else do you need for him to do – write it out in blood?"

Her anger flickered, but it was overcome with grief. How could she make him understand?

"It doesn't matter if he loves me!" she argued indignantly. James opened his mouth as if to counter, but she cut him off.

"It doesn't!" she argued hotly. "What difference does it make if he doesn't care enough to stay?" She looked up desperately, as if searching for answers. It was cloudy with dark gray splashes against a black sky. She felt empty at the lack of moon.

Her hair clung to her face again in the heat, and she groped around her wrist furiously for an elastic band, tying her hair to the top of her head messily. She declared silently that she'd hack it all off at the first opportunity.

"Don't I deserve to have someone who cares enough to be with me?" she asked desperately. Her words evaporated into the sky. She wondered to where they'd float. She wondered if anyone would ever answer.

The two stood in the silent humidity together. The moisture in the air draped over them heavily. She knew they should keep walking – it was dangerous for them to be out there in the middle of the night, after all – but she couldn't find her feet. It seemed so petty to be discussing such a trivial matter as her relationship with someone she wasn't even with anymore in the midst of war.

"I know I don't have the words to convince you that what I'm saying is true," James said softly, "But it is. If I know anything, it's that Remus loves you. You just have to believe it. You're discrediting both him and yourself by doubting what you two have."

Rowan breathed raggedly, swallowing down her protests and sorrow. She knew arguing with him would do no good, and her anger was suddenly gone.

"If you say so," she responded quietly.

* * *

><p>They stayed silent for the rest of the way back to Rowan's flat. Once they reached her front stoop, James stood on the stairs next to her. She could see that he had more to say, so she paused and looked up at him after pushing her key into the lock. He gazed at her intensely.<p>

"About Rosier," he started carefully.

Rowan felt the blood drain from her face and her lungs constrict. James was the last person she wanted to talk to about this. He was a good man – a man with endless optimism and one who never thought poorly of his friends. It would destroy her even more to hear him tell her that she was still a good person – it seemed very empty, almost cheap.

"I know," she said stiffly. She wanted to drop this immediately. She was terrified of having this conversation with him.

"No," he said firmly, eyes hard. Her stomach clenched. Why couldn't he let this go?

"I know how you think. I can only imagine the internal struggle you're having right now because I know how hypercritical you are of yourself, but you really don't need to be. You're an incredibly strong and kind person, Winnie, and the world is better off with you in it," he said fervently.

Rowan wanted to curl up and die. He'd just said to her all the things she _didn't_ want to hear from him. He thought she felt guilty for killing Rosier when, in fact, _she didn't_. She didn't feel bad. She felt bad for _not _feeling bad, in some vague, abstract sense. It had nothing to do with the fact that she'd taken a life but more so because she'd gone against all of man's most critical laws and felt absolutely no remorse about it. Didn't that make her nothing more than an animal?

"Stop it," he said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up at him, startled.

"Last year after Dad died, I was a mess," he admitted. Her side suddenly burned at the memory of the Frost Fire there as she'd pushed him out of the way of the curse. She trembled at the thought of John Potter's body lying still in the dark.

"It's a terrible feeling – knowing that you want to hurt someone and not being ashamed of it. It took someone like you to snap me out of it, and it took Lily's forgiveness to make me realize that I wasn't a monster," he said darkly. His gaze was hard. She faltered under its weight.

"_You _are not a monster, Winnie, so don't treat yourself like one."

Her lips trembled as his words sunk into her. They remained shallow, but they still hummed and resonated in her chest. She shook with effort to contain it, but she felt it frothing beneath her skin. His gaze softened as he saw her fight the tears down, and as he pulled her towards him, a few escaped, soaking into his shirt. It was so familiar, yet strangely lonely – his shoulders were so much broader than she wanted them to be. He was so much taller than she was. When had he become an adult? When had her best friend left her behind?

After a few moments, he squeezed her tightly again before pulling away and holding her by the shoulders. He smiled softly at her, brown eyes twinkling with warmth. Her heart swelled with gratitude.

"Thank you, Jamie," she said. She felt like her chest might burst.

"Of course," he said warmly. He then grinned. "Better get inside. Your face looks like it is about to melt off," he teased. She scowled and punched his arm roughly, but he just laughed and mussed up her hair. He said his goodbyes and hopped down the stairs, and with a pop he was gone. She stared at the spot for a moment fondly before moving inside, smiling for the first time in nearly a week.

* * *

><p>Remus sat tiredly at Lily and James' kitchen table with a mug of tea in his hands. After he'd walked Lily home from the Order meeting, she'd insisted that he come in to catch up. It had been a long time since he'd stepped foot into their flat – when was the last time he'd really spent time with his married friends? He suddenly felt incredibly guilty.<p>

Lily sat down across from him with her own mug and gazed at him thoughtfully. There was something terribly unnerving about her large green eyes. They always seemed to know what he was thinking.

"I wanted to talk to you about Rowan," she said softly.

Remus grimaced. Of course – James was probably talking to Rowan about him at that very moment. They'd most likely planned this in advance. They were just too well-intentioned for their own good.

"What about her?" he asked dully. He knew he couldn't avoid this, but perhaps he could steer Lily away from it quickly.

"When are you going to get your act together and ask her take you back?" she asked pointedly. Her tone was mild, but he could hear a bite there. He flinched slightly. He really didn't want to anger the redhead – he wasn't afraid of many people, but an angry Lily was one of those few that made him cringe with fear.

"What makes you think I want that?" he asked. He gazed into his mug. He thought carefully about how to get out of this conversation.

Lily arched a graceful brow. "Really? Are you seriously going to play this game with me, Remus?" she asked smartly.

Remus sighed. He knew he was already doomed. There was no convincing Lily out of this.

"I don't know why you even want me to. All I've ever done is make her unhappy," he said bitterly.

"Don't be thick," Lily snapped.

Remus looked up at her, startled. Lily had never spoken so bluntly with him. The only person she spoke to like that was James usually, and sometimes Sirius when he was getting out of hand with his teasing.

"All Rowan's ever wanted is to be with you. The happiest I've ever seen her was when she was with you. Were _you_ not happy with _her?"_ she asked. Her tone melted softly at the end, eyes large and shining. Remus felt his face burn.

"Of course I was," he said sourly. He glared at his reflection in his mug. It was distorted and trembling in the brown liquid. "There is no greater happiness than being with her," he murmured.

"Then why are you doing this to yourself?" Lily asked plainly.

Remus stared at her long and hard, almost disbelievingly, before gathering himself. "I'm a werewolf," he said simply, bitterly.

"So what?" Lily asked, arching a brow.

Remus' entire face screwed up with confusion. "What do you mean, 'So what?'" he asked incredulously. "It's everything. I can't… How _can_ I be with her when I can't give her what she needs?" he said, slightly annoyed.

"What _does_ she need?" Lily countered quickly.

Remus stared at her disbelievingly. How could this conversation still be going?

"Tell me what Rowan needs that you can't give her in a relationship as opposed to whatever you are now because you're certainly not 'just friends,' despite whatever you say," Lily said defiantly. Her eyes were blazing. Her hair seemed to highlight the burning heat radiating off of her. Remus felt incredibly small.

"You're worried about putting her at risk," she continued fiercely. Remus felt as if a wave was sweeping him out to sea.

"That's not good enough of a reason to me," she declared. "Rowan's never cared about something as petty as reputation – her career choice proves that, so you can't argue there. As for making enemies, she's already an Order member, so she obviously doesn't care about that either. So really, give me another reason."

Remus felt like his ears might burn off. He felt like a small boy being scolded by his mother for stealing chocolate from the cupboard. He hadn't heard Lily's know-it-all voice ever directed at him, and it'd been quite some time since he'd heard it at all. Memories of her robotically rattling off answers for Professor Flitwick in Charms class came rushing back. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Well?" Lily demanded.

"I-I-" he stammered weakly, "I could hurt her. I could bite her mid-transformation." Lily snorted uncharacteristically.

"We all know what great lengths you go through to prevent that, so that's also void," Lily said fiercely. "You have your calendar memorized more than anyone else I know. Another."

Remus wanted to curl up and die. How had this happened? His hands seemed to be glued to his mug.

"I'm too poor," he said ashamedly. "My job is okay for now as a single man, but I won't be able to move up. I'll never be able to support her."

"Oh, come off it," she said bitingly. "Rowan's family has got enough gold to last her three lifetimes at least. And she's not exactly high maintenance – she's not expecting diamonds and designer clothes. That's not valid either."

Remus gaped openly at Lily now. He scoured his mind for another reason, something, anything!

"I can't-" he stammered with shame, "I can't give her children. What if… what if they're like me?" he whispered. His face burned. His stomach churned violently at the thought.

Lily's gaze softened, eyes shining with sadness. His entire body burned with embarrassment. That was the look he hated – why did she have to look at him like that? He didn't want pity. He just wanted to forget all of this.

"Have you even asked her if she cares about that?" Lily asked softly.

Remus' face continued to burn but he didn't respond. Lily's eyes welled up with what looked like tears. Remus' chest constricted with panic.

"How can you just leave her without even asking her what she wants first?" Lily asked. Her voice had taken on a shriller tone, eyes shining with unshed tears. Remus was sure he might implode with anxiety. Was he really so bad with women that he'd already pushed her to this point? How had she gone from Head Girl to hysterical in such a small amount of time? The panic increased.

"We've lost so many friends already!" she cried. "Edgar and Dorcas and Richard and now even Marlene!"

Remus was at a loss. Lily's eyes now leaked with wet tears, and he had no idea what to do. How had this conversation turned from Rowan to the war so quickly? He knew he should console her, but he was frozen to his seat, horrified and afraid.

"Everyday is precious," Lily whispered, wiping her tears away with cheeks flaming red. "How can you spend another minute away from her knowing that each day could be our last? She almost d-died the other night!" Her voice hiccuped slightly.

Remus' blood ran with ice. He'd refused to think of Rowan's risks in the war in that way for a long time, knowing the dark voices that followed. He thought of Rowan's face smeared with blood, the blank look in her eyes as he'd pulled her down the dark streets of London. What if Rosier hadn't taken Bellatrix's dagger? Would Rowan's body be lying next to Marlene's somewhere in a cold Ministry morgue? His entire body shook as his chest constricted painfully. He forced the thought away.

Lily reached across the table to grasp his hand tightly. Her eyes shined fiercely. Her lips trembled. He felt his throat clench tightly.

"You need to tell her how much you love her!" Lily said ardently, shaking his hand lightly but firmly. "You have to give her a chance! Would you be able to live with yourself if something happened to her and you never said anything? What if she were to finally move on and have that family with someone else because you were too afraid? Could you really accept that?"

Remus was overcome. The dark voice within him was roaring at the thought of anyone else touching her. He thought of Barty Crouch wrapping his arms around Rowan, her smiling up at the younger man with that bright light she used to reserve solely for him. He wanted to tear every limb from Barty's body. He wanted to take her until they both forgot there was anyone else in the world besides the two of them. His blood boiled, fire searing through his chest.

A jingling at the door snapped him from his dark stupor, and James was moving through the doorway looking tired but pleased. He grinned at Remus and his wife but then his face fell at the sight of the shadows on both of their faces.

"What's going on?" he asked carefully, moving towards the table.

"We were just catching up," she said nonchalantly, discreetly wiping the tears from her eyes. Remus looked at her, startled, but she just smiled at him reassuringly. Her gaze was surprisingly warm. "It'd been a while since just the two of us had a chance to talk. And since you were with Winnie, I thought it'd be nice to have some company while you were out." She got up and moved to the kitchen sink. He had a feeling she was trying to gather herself.

James didn't seem to believe her, but he kept his doubts to himself.

"Right," he said slowly.

Remus kept his gaze downward. James had always had a strange way of reading his mind, particularly where Rowan was concerned, and he didn't want to give him any opportunity to jump in where Lily had left off – James was fiercely protective of his childhood friend, and he had the feeling he'd come away with a few bruises if the other man started on the subject of his relationship with Rowan.

"I should get going. It's getting late," Remus said, standing from the table.

"What? But I just got home!" James whined. Remus laughed genuinely. It felt strange but relieving.

"Sorry, mate. Work tomorrow and all," he said, taking his cup to the kitchen counter. Lily took it from him gently and smiled warmly at him. Her eyes still glistened with tears, but she raised her chin to him confidently. He couldn't help but smile back. He suddenly felt very lucky to have Lily and James in his life.

As he moved to the door, James followed him. He put a firm hand on his shoulder before he reached for the doorknob.

"You should talk to Rowan, Moony," he said quietly, but firmly. "There's a lot you two need to discuss." He caught Remus' gaze with a hard look, and Remus' throat tightened again. He nodded solemnly.

"I will," he promised.

James smiled thinly and clapped his shoulder before opening the door for him. They said their goodbyes, and Remus stepped out into the night. He looked up at the sky – no moon tonight. He thought of Rowan's dark hair and the way her eyes would turn up towards the sky – had she picked up the habit from him? He wanted to see her desperately.

He Disapparated on the spot for his flat. He couldn't bear to face the sky.


	36. Of Taking a Step in One Direction

**A/N**: Close to something big?

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 36: Of Taking a Step in One Direction<strong>

Barty Crouch Sr.'s office was a rich array of deep ebony wood furniture and the smell of polish. While Rowan's father's office had been a display of pride and power – bedecked in deep scarlet and rich leather – Crouch's was minimalistic, full of sleek surfaces and hard angles. Even his belongings seemed to express a harsh disdain for frivolity. Rowan felt even more uncomfortable in her already stiff dress robes than before.

He invited her in civilly with his mouth in a tight line, and she noted that, despite being in his own space, he was even more on edge than he'd been when they'd spoken at Delacroix Manor. She wondered how anyone could submit himself to so much tension even in his personal space.

"So what brings you here, Ms. Delacroix?" he asked brusquely. "I have an appointment in about fifteen minutes, so if you don't mind, I'd like to make this brief." Rowan felt a familiar twinge of annoyance but pushed it aside.

"I've heard that Karkaroff is talking," she said simply, eyeing him carefully.

Karkaroff had undoubtedly heard the news of the intense blow to the Death Eater forces, and he was a bottom-feeder if there ever was one – Kingsley had informed Rowan that Karkaroff had begun giving names, clearly betting on the Ministry's side against his old allies. It made Rowan sick with disgust. She wanted to tear the man's throat out.

He nodded. "Yes, he's listed several names, including his accomplice in your master's murder – Evan Rosier. Coincidentally, he was found dead in Wigtown the other night," he said smugly.

Rowan nodded and hid the scowl from her face – this man was insufferable. She wanted more than anything at that moment to tell him that _she_ had been the one to kill him. That would wipe that damned smirk from his face.

"Will you be offering him a bargain?" she asked. She gazed at him with a hard look.

His face darkened slightly at her bluntness. "Yes, we will probably offer him a lighter sentence for his cooperation," he said, staring her down.

Rowan felt the fire flare from her chest up her neck. She knew she was probably turning red in the face and fought to keep her temper under control.

"But Evan Rosier is dead," she said bristling. "What good does the name of a dead man do anyone?" Her blood was boiling.

"He's given some more names, ones that are more useful," he said smartly. "I'm afraid I can't discuss them with you at this time, but we will release them soon enough after the arrests have been made."

She glowered and held his gaze. The air was heavy in her lungs.

"Does your son know about all of this?" she asked lowly. His eyebrows furrowed, and his gaze darkened slightly.

"He is aware," he answered simply. She felt the understanding between them.

"I see," she said. She stood from her chair and glowered. "I'm afraid that I have no further business with you then, Mr. Crouch. I'll see myself out and let you continue on with your day."

He stared hard at her, assessing her carefully before speaking. "I was just telling my son how unfortunate it is that you never sought a position at the Ministry. I would have liked having someone like you in my department," he said. He eyed her carefully. "A witch of your credentials and pedigree would be highly sought after. I think you'd climb your way up the ranks as fast as your father did. You'd certainly have great influence over policies made here."

Rowan's conversation with Barty Jr. from the week before suddenly sprang to mind. The dark expression he'd worn was so similar to his father's, and she finally understood how right Mina was – they were very much alike. She realized that she had forgotten to mention her anxieties with the Order about the younger Crouch but knew with great relief that it wouldn't be a concern for her much longer.

She eyed him carefully with slight disdain. The underlying offer in his words boiled a lingering anger in her chest.

"Thank you, but I must say that the idea of working for the Ministry is entirely unappealing. I don't negotiate with murderers," she said haughtily. He leaned back in his chair as if impressed, though she wasn't sure of what since it clearly wasn't her morals. What a strange man.

"Good day, Mr. Crouch," she said, turning and walking out of his office.

"Good day, Ms. Delacroix," he called after her.

* * *

><p>Rowan made a stop at Barty Jr.'s office next. It was smaller and wasn't of the same cold minimalism that his father's had been, but it was still quite stark. She thought it looked very much like a bachelor's space. He seemed extremely surprised but pleased to see her there.<p>

"Rowan!" he greeted happily. "Please come in! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked. He leaned against the edge of his desk casually as she sat in the chair in front of his desk. She felt uncomfortable being at a lower vantage point for some reason.

"I just met with your father and thought I'd swing by on my way out," she said casually. She was nervous, guilty for some reason, though she couldn't be sure why. Their arrangement had been purely platonic, after all – she had every right to this decision.

"I see," he said cautiously. "I suppose you've heard about Karkaroff then." His expression was darker than she'd seen in a while. The anger she'd seen flicker in the quiet moments was there again. She felt even more uncomfortable.

"Yes," she said bitterly. "He made it quite clear that he'll be making a bargain with him." The heat flared in her chest again.

Barty assessed her quietly for a moment before speaking again. "I suppose there's no need to continue our act then, is there?" he asked carefully.

Her throat tightened momentarily, but as she opened her mouth to begin apologizing, he spoke again.

"Would you consider making it more… official?" he asked.

Rowan felt her heart stop for a moment. She looked at him searchingly. He was gazing at her earnestly, the fire still in his eyes. Was there a sense of desperation there? Longing? She couldn't read it. She'd never seen him look at her that way before, but it wasn't anything like the hungry look that Remus gave her. It made her uneasy.

"Despite our agreement, I've enjoyed getting to know you over the past few months. I think you're brilliant and engaging, and I could see us being together for a long time," he said earnestly. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. His hands were warm, and she suddenly felt uncomfortably hot.

"I know I'm not Lupin, but I can be twice the man he was for you. Be with me," he said heatedly. His gaze burned through her.

Rowan looked at him, feeling lost and overwhelmed. How had this happened? His thumb ran over her knuckles in a slow, scalding line. She was thankful that she'd finally healed her hands before coming. She wanted to scrub her skin off.

Barty was everything she should want – intelligent, kind, and handsome. He checked off everything on her father's list in terms of connections and blood status, and if things were to continue smoothly, she'd probably lead a very affluent life with him. And really, hadn't she been coming to terms with the idea of marrying comfortably, even if it were without love?

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Her chest filled with shame as she thought of her father, but she knew her decision even without thinking. "I really like you, Barty, and I've enjoyed all the time we've spent together." She supposed it was half-true – most of their dates had been fun until the last. "But I can't see us as anything more than friends. I'd like to stay that way if you're willing, but I'm afraid I can't be with you in the way that you're asking." His expression was unreadable. "I'm really sorry," she added again, rather pathetically.

He held her hands, completely still, but the intensity in his gaze deepened. A chill settled into her bones, and she suddenly wanted to get away from him. His features didn't contort, didn't tense, but there was something there that was dark and violent, and she desperately wanted to leave, to put distance between them.

"I see," he said quietly. His eyes burned into her. "Is there really nothing I can do to convince you?" His hands tightened around hers slowly. She thought of a snake slowly wrapping around a victim. She imagined them clenching around her throat.

"No," she answered. She hoped that the fear she felt wasn't evident in her voice.

Barty assessed her for another moment quietly. She held his gaze firmly, determined not to lose to him, though she wasn't sure for what they were competing. Finally after what seemed like a short eternity, he released her hands and stood silently, staring down at her, suddenly very cold.

But then his expression was that of a different man. It was kind, gentle even. Every part of her was lost. There's no way she could have imagined it.

"Well, I guess it was always a losing battle for me, eh?" he said jovially. He smiled. Her stomach lurched.

"I'd also like to remain friends," he said warmly. "I hope that we can still go out, platonically of course. I think I'll miss having you around otherwise." He smiled at her, and she forced a smile back automatically. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of this man or the one she'd just seen.

"Yeah, of course," she said casually. "We should still hang out when you're free." She hoped that she sounded sincere.

"Yeah," he said smiling. "Sounds good."

* * *

><p>Lyall Lupin and his son Remus sat in their old home's living room after a quiet dinner that evening. Remus had been making it a priority to spend more time with his father over the past few months. Lyall had lost a bit of weight since Leanna's passing, so Remus occasionally paid him visits and cooked elaborate meals for him, insisting that he eat more. He mused that he sounded very much like his mother. Lyall found it all very amusing and humored his son as well as he could.<p>

It was still insufferably humid as the last days of August died down. Remus' clothes clung to his skin, which in turn seemed to stick uncomfortably to his bones. He felt like he was in constant need of a shower, and it only added to his general level of discomfort.

_Would you be able to live with yourself if something happened to her and you never said anything?_

Lily's question still echoed in his head deafeningly from the night before. The thought had occurred to him countless times, but for months he'd kept it from his mind, silenced the dark voices that had whispered such terrible fears. He'd told himself that he'd be able to prevent any harm from coming to her, but the mission in Wigtown had proved otherwise. She'd been covered in blood, a mess of rage and terror. For a moment, he hadn't even been able to recognize her. He'd never seen such wrath in her, hadn't even known she was capable of it.

The truth was that even before speaking to Lily, the question of what he wanted from Rowan had been heavy on his mind. He'd left Rowan's flat with her still asleep days before because he couldn't think clearly with her so close. His nose had been filled with her familiar scent, her skin so warm against his. He didn't know how long he'd laid there admiring the delicate curve of her cheek, the troubled line of her mouth. He could stare at her for hours without thinking about anything. It terrified him how weak she still made him. He didn't understand how someone so small could render him so useless.

But she wasn't small, he countered mentally. Something howled distantly in him. That night, her fire had roared burning and blinding. He wanted to protect her, to be afraid for her, but he couldn't. That distant voice responded to her darkness overwhelmingly. A part of him wanted to pull it from her again, test his own against it. It both thrilled and terrified him.

He'd been prepared to walk her home that night again after the Order meeting dumbly without knowing what to say to her. Even without her near, the dark presence in his gut had roared so deafeningly that all of his thoughts regarding her had been drowned out for days. He just wanted to be close, to feel that resonation between them. He wanted to tear apart anyone who dared come near her. He'd nearly fought James when he'd insisted he take her home instead. She hadn't looked at him as she'd left, and he'd wanted nothing more than to grab her and make her face him, to tell her how very sorry he was for leaving her that morning.

And now, after speaking to Lily and thinking it over another day, he wasn't any closer to knowing what to do. No, he knew what he should do – what he was _going_ to do. He just hadn't accepted it yet.

"How are your friends doing?" Lyall asked suddenly, breaking Remus from his dark thoughts. He looked up jerkily at his father, who was still reading _The Daily Prophet_. It almost seemed as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"They're fine," Remus said stiffly. He still didn't feel as comfortable discussing his friends with his father as he had with his mother. Lyall had grown to love the Marauders and their respective girlfriends over the years, but Remus' condition had always presented a dark shadow. He felt rather defeated at it – if they couldn't convince his father that he could find genuine friendships despite his condition, then no one would.

Lyall nodded vaguely. He turned a page of his newspaper. "I heard about the Death Eater massacre in Wigtown a few days ago. They say the one who murdered Belby was found dead," he said carefully. He glanced towards Remus pointedly, and Remus felt his chest tighten. "Is Rowan okay?"

Remus had to suppress a grimace. "Yeah, she's all right… a little shaken, but all right," he said quietly.

Lyall nodded again. "I imagine she'd be quite angry," he said knowingly. Remus almost wanted to laugh - could there be a greater understatement? Images of her fury filled his mind, of her limbs thrashing wildly at the collapsed Death Eater's body. He felt something tearing at him from inside with a muffled, righteous roar.

"I heard from some coworkers that he was beaten quite badly when they found him. Someone must have held a grudge," Lyall continued.

Remus eyed his father warily. Damn his Ministry connections. He often forgot how quickly information spread through the Ministry, even across departments. It was growing more and more difficult to keep news of the Order's movements from his father. He knew about his involvement, but he didn't need to worry Lyall any further than he already did.

"You two have been broken up for nearly a year now," he said quietly.

Remus felt a cold trickle run down his back. Had it really almost been a year? Yes, it had nearly been a year since his mother had passed as well. It had been particularly long. Time moves slowly without the people one loves most.

"Don't you think it's time you asked her to take you back?" Lyall asked bluntly.

Remus gaped at his father, who acted so casually, like he'd just asked Remus if he'd like a cup of tea. Was everyone in his life conspiring together to push him to be with Rowan?

"But you've never approved of me having a relationship with anyone," he said a bit more bitterly than he'd intended.

Lyall sighed and lowered his paper. He took off his glasses, pushing them up onto his forehead, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. He suddenly looked very old. A small twinge of fear rang through Remus' chest.

"I used to think that," his father admitted. "But Rowan proved to me a long time ago that if there's an exception to any rule, she's the exception to all of yours." He looked up at Remus and smiled thinly.

Remus' hands tightened.

"Don't you think it's what your mother would've wanted as well?" Lyall asked.

Remus' chest clenched painfully at the thought of his mother.

"Mum would've wanted me to be with anyone who accepted my condition. It wasn't exclusive to Rowan," he said lowly. He pushed the image of his mother's face from his mind. It was too bright, too painful.

"Your mum was a bit of an airhead, but she was no fool. She knew Rowan was special," Lyall said fondly. He smiled gently at the thought of his wife. "You should've seen the way her face would light up whenever Rowan's owl showed up here. It was quite amusing, really – like she was some teenager getting love letters."

Remus looked at his father with confusion. Lyall seemed to read his face.

"You didn't know?" he asked cheekily. Remus glared at his father, who smirked at him. "Oh yes, your mum started writing to her while you were still in school. I think it was your last summer… You were going through that angsty phase of yours – Rowan was much more forthcoming than you were with explanations," he said smartly.

Remus felt his ears burn. Memories of his mother hugging Rowan fiercely at Platform 9¾ flashed in his mind – it suddenly made much more sense. He marveled at how he could have never noticed. Half of him was impressed at his mother's sneakiness, though another was quite angry at the thought.

"So what if Mum loved her?" Remus asked sourly. He didn't want to think of the two most precious women in his life. He didn't want to think of Leanna. "That doesn't solve anything for me."

"Do _you_ love her?" Lyall asked simply.

Remus' brows furrowed. "Of course I do," he answered plainly.

"Well then, there you go," Lyall declared.

Remus' brows furrowed deeper, and Lyall sighed in exasperation.

"Why does anything else matter? If you love her, then why can't you be with her? What's stopping you?"

Remus thought his skull might implode. Lyall Lupin – his analytical, anxious, serious father – was telling him to throw all reason to the wind and follow his heart. Into what strange alternate reality had he fallen?

"Stop making that face. I know that face," he said, scolding Remus. "But I mean it. Really – can you afford to waste time away from her? What if it hadn't been that poor McKinnon girl who died? What if the next is Rowan?"

Remus' stomach churned at the thought. His face darkened.

"Lily said the same thing last night," he said quietly.

Lyall hummed in approval. "Smart girl, that one," he said. "Maybe you should listen to her."

Remus gaped at his father disbelievingly. He still couldn't understand how all of his conversations recently seemed to revolve around Rowan.

"You used to be so uncomfortable at the idea of me being with anyone," Remus said suspiciously. "Am I to really believe that Rowan has somehow changed all of that?"

Lyall assessed him carefully. Remus forced himself to not shift uneasily under his father's gaze.

"Sometimes when the universe keeps pushing us in one direction, that's where we need to go," his father said cryptically over his paper.

Remus considered the words slowly, letting them drip over his heart. Perhaps. Perhaps he would think about it more. Perhaps the universe just needed to give him one more push.


	37. Of the Dark Ties Between Us

**A/N**: RIP RAB.

**dearmaggie:** Once again, I cannot thank you enough for your kind words. It really means a lot to me whenever I get one of your reviews - they're incredibly thoughtful, and it's really gratifying when someone values the details I place in the story because I definitely put a lot of thought into them.

I'm also really pleased that you've picked up on the Order members' relationships because the dynamic between comrades in arms is very compelling to me. I've been considering it a lot recently, especially as I plan the final story in the series. I'm glad that you find it interesting because there are a few chapters in the near future that focus a little more on the Order, particularly the Weasleys.

Anyway, thank you so much as always for reading and for taking the time to write me a review! I really appreciate it!

**missalex3030:** Haaaaa you're going to be so mad at me! XD

**S38:** Hahaha no shagging yet! But thank you! I really love Barty's character in a weird way. He's a lot of fun to write, so I'm glad he's compelling as a villain. Thank you so much as always!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thank you as always! I definitely agree that Rowan will need some explanations and convincing ;]

**snuffles95:** Thank you thank you! Please enjoy!

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 37: Of the Dark Ties Between Us<strong>

Late the next night – close to dawn – Rowan entered the kitchen of the Order headquarters to find Sirius sitting alone at the table. She had just gotten back from a late night patrol with Arthur around Knockturn Alley where there had been rumors of Death Eater activity, but they'd turned up nothing. She'd insisted that Arthur go home to his family and that she'd send a report to Dumbledore for them. She hadn't expected to see anyone else there, however.

The young man sat with his face buried in his hands, shoulders hunched and trembling slightly. A piece of crumpled parchment and a torn open envelope lay on the table next to his arm. She saw a broken wax seal of dark green on the envelope – the Black family coat of arms. The very sight sent a cold shiver of fear through her – she hadn't seen Sirius with anything pertaining to his family in many years. Everything about the scene felt wrong.

"Sirius?" she called quietly.

His head jerked up to see her at the doorway with wide surprised eyes. She was relieved that there were no tears on his face, but the lines were much deeper than she'd ever seen. His usually handsome features were heavy with shadows. It was eerie – disturbing.

"I didn't think anyone would be here this late," he said quietly.

"Patrol report," she explained. He nodded almost imperceptibly. She eyed him ruefully. "I can leave if you need some time alone."

Sirius didn't respond. He kept his hands on the table stretched out in front of him, gaze facing downward. He seemed be concentrating greatly on controlling his breathing, which was ragged and strained. She could see his back tremble with effort. The uneven thrum of his breath reverberated through her chest. She stood in the doorway, thinking desperately of what she should do. Sirius wasn't the kind of man to want company with his dark thoughts - she could count on two hands the number of times she'd seen him truly upset in all the years she'd known him. Just as she was about to make her way back to the door, he spoke.

"My brother is dead," he said quietly.

Rowan felt her blood run cold with ice. Her mouth trembled.

"Oh, god," she breathed. "Sirius, I'm so sorry," she said sadly. Her eyes stung with sympathy. She deliberated what to do once again before deciding to stay. She sat down next to him cautiously, but he made no move to push her away. She didn't touch him, just let her presence be known. He didn't look up her.

"How… Do you know what happened?" she asked carefully.

Sirius shook his head slowly but answered, "Voldemort… Killed," he said simply. "Got scared… Couldn't get out." His form seemed to shrink. "There's nothing left of him apparently."

Rowan let the words wash over her slowly. They left so many more questions in their wake, but she couldn't make sense of any of them. Regulus was – had been – a couple of years younger. The two brothers had never gotten on – Regulus had been a Slytherin and a notorious one at that. He'd run with the darker crowd while in school, and it'd been common knowledge at Hogwarts how much the two disliked each other.

But Rowan knew, at the bottom of it all, that Sirius ached for his brother's love, just as he had for his parents', perhaps even more so. He rarely spoke of his family, and when he did, it was usually with disdain, but when he'd moved into the Potters' home, he'd been quietly devastated. She and James had spent several days after trying to distract their friend from his dark thoughts with fun excursions and activities, and he'd been thankful.

But there was no distracting Sirius from this. So many years lost, a relationship undeveloped because of something so petty as blood feuds – it seemed too cruel. Her heart ached painfully for her friend. She felt a sour bitterness spread through her as she thought of his parents – what a terrible thing it is to turn one's sons against each other. She'd never felt so much hatred towards them.

"I don't know why I'm so upset. It's not like I even liked him," Sirius said bitterly.

Rowan watched him carefully, throat tightening. She wanted to reach out to him but didn't know how. She'd never had a sibling – James was the closest thing she had to a brother – and her parents had always doted on her, even if they'd had their problems. She couldn't claim to empathize.

"He's still your brother," she said sadly. He held her gaze from the corner of his eye warily. The lines in his face seemed so out of place. He should be smiling, always.

"No matter how terrible our families are, how much we want to hate them for whatever reason, they're still family. And you still loved him," she said fervently. Sirius' mouth tightened and twisted.

"You're not just grieving his death – you're grieving for what you lost, what you never got the chance to have with him. And that's okay," she said. "It's okay to love him."

Sirius held her gaze, and she had to push her own sorrow away. His lips trembled minutely – she nearly missed it – before he turned away from her again and looked back down at the table. His shoulders didn't tremble again, but she saw a steady flow of tears drip from his face down onto the wooden surface where they began to pool quietly. She looked away and stared up at the ceiling, allowing him a moment of silence.

They sat together quietly for a while – she didn't know how long. When he finally sat up again, his eyes were dry, though red, and his mouth had taken on a determined line. She watched him carefully from the corner of her eye. Finally, he turned towards her.

"Thanks, Row," he whispered.

She smiled softly and leaned against him reassuringly. She knocked her head against his playfully, and she heard him release a small breath.

"You should get home. I'm sure Mina's worrying about you," she said.

The corner of his mouth twitched in response, and he took a few deep breaths before rising slowly from his seat, picking up the open letter with uncharacteristically gentle hands. She stood with him.

"Do you have someone to walk you home?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

She smiled. "I'll be fine," she said reassuringly. "I still have to send a report to Dumbledore anyway."

Sirius frowned. "Moony wouldn't like that," he said.

Rowan scowled, which made Sirius smirk. A part of her felt slightly relieved at the sight.

"I don't give a shit what he thinks. Go home," she said defiantly.

He snorted. "Fine, but be careful, okay?" he said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," she said chidingly as she reached for a piece of parchment. "Now shove off. Your ugly face is putting me in a bad mood."

Sirius scowled and mussed up her hair roughly. She groaned and pushed him off ungracefully. He let out a laughing bark.

"Now, who's ugly?" he teased. She punched him in the arm, and he squealed, hopping for the door. When he reached it, he turned back, smiling warmly.

"Hey, Rowan?" he called.

"What?" she asked exasperatedly, turning back from the parchment.

"Thanks," he said simply. She smiled.

"Anytime, mate," she said.

* * *

><p>A yellow-haired man shrieked in pain as a flash of red light seized him. He writhed and shook wildly on the cold floor of a dark hall, surrounded by a small group of dark-robed figures who each cowered in fear at every jerk and quiver of their colleague's body. A dark-haired woman floated above them, her body twisting and turning slowly in a dull fog of blue light. Their pale-faced master roared in anger over the screaming man. It shook the very walls of the room.<p>

Finally, the red light subsided, and the young man moaned in pain, trembling against the stone floor. A thin film of sweat stuck to his face with hair clinging to his skin. He curled up and rocked slowly, groaning and whimpering in his agony. The room echoed with the sound.

"What is wrong with young people these days?" the Dark Lord asked the room. His arms gestured dramatically around him. His servants trembled as his mouth stretched maniacally yellow. "No sense of obligation or responsibility! _No vigilance!"_

He shot another flare from his wand at the young man at his feet, who screamed. His back arched up from the ground in agony, writhing and seizing. His master pulled his wand away, and the light disappeared again.

"Have we come to an understanding yet, my boy?" the pale wizard asked softly. "It would be a great pity for you to just… _disappear_ like your old schoolmate Black." The young man whimpered vaguely in response. His master sneered.

"You were given a place in this circle because you showed great promise. Was I wrong to assume that?" he asked softly.

"N-no, my Lord," the young man gasped. His frame continued to tremble. His face twitched slightly, muscles spasming uncontrollably.

"Then you will follow through with what you have promised me!" the Dark Lord hissed. "What use is that comfortable position of yours at the Ministry if I cannot make use of it? Can you not handle that dim father, boy?"

He twirled his wand between long, thin fingers. Barty mumbled incoherently against the stone floor.

"You also swore a way into the Order with this little charade of yours with the Delacroix girl, did you not? Have you grown soft or are you just incompetent?"

"I can still give you Delacroix!" the young man blurted desperately. A few derisive snorts could be heard from his peers. "I can! I can get you James Potter a-and Black and Longbottom and even the werewolf Lupin! With more time, I-"

"With more time, _I_ could just do it myself," the dark wizard spat.

"I swear, please," the young man whispered desperately. "Just give me more time. I swear I can-"

"My Lord," a drawling voice called over the silence. The congregation turned towards a dark-haired wizard with a large, hooked noise and sallow skin. He stood very poised and straight. His lip curled almost sneeringly at the cowering man in front of him. "Might I make a suggestion for our dear friend?"

The Dark Lord's face contorted amusedly. "Please, Severus," he invited teasingly. "Share with us your thoughts."

"Perhaps he is approaching Ms. Delacroix the wrong way. Perhaps…" he paused. He eyed the younger man on the floor disdainfully. "… a more_ assertive _strategy would be more appropriate." He sneered. "I think Mr. Wormtail could also be of use to him. Perhaps young Master Crouch could collaborate with Miss, uh… _Eripice._"

Silence fell upon the hall again. The pale wizard gazed at the oily-haired man thoughtfully, thin lips still twitching with amusement. Barty's form still trembled.

"Yes," he finally said. His high voice echoed throughout the darkness. "Yes, I think that sounds quite right."

"Barty… _dear child_," he breathed mockingly. The young man froze stiffly with eyes locked upon his master's feet. "I will give you one month. _One month_ and I expect to see results in either the form that girl and her friends at my feet or the silence of those traitors in your father's care… or your place at this circle will be terminated."

Barty scrambled to his hands and knees and bowed prostrate before his master.

"Yes, my Lord! Of course! Thank you!" he sputtered gratefully. And with a wave of his master's hand, he struggled away from the center of the congregation.

The pale wizard then turned his gaze upward at the dark-haired woman floating above. She was silent but still rolling jerkily. He held a thoughtful expression.

"Bellatrix," he called.

The dark head of a tall witch jerked upward with wide eyes. She, her husband, and brother-in-law cowered to the side, all looking gaunt with cuts and bruises across their faces – Barty Crouch had not been the only one to suffer their master's wrath that night.

"Yes, my Lord?" she whispered. Despite the freshness of her punishments, her gaze burned into him with fiery adoration. Her chin jutted forward eagerly, swollen lip trembling. She could barely contain her excitement.

"I think Severus is right – our friend Wormtail could be of assistance to young Mr. Crouch," he said. He kept his gaze upward. The floating woman's skin glowed pale and sickly in the dim light. Her head lolled unnaturally. She emitted a low groan.

"My Lord," Bellatrix whispered reverently, "do you wish me to bring him to you now?"

"Yes," the dark wizard mused. "Yes, now would be an excellent time." With a flick of his wand, the floating form above fell in a mass of dark hair and tattered robes to the cold floor with a sickening thud. She cried out and writhed in pain.

"Please!" she sobbed.

Bellatrix scrambled to her feet and stalked over to the woman where she slowly, predatorily, crouched down and ran a hand through the woman's thick hair. She jerked and cried out, trying desperately to roll away from the witch's touch but could barely move. She whimpered, tears spilling onto the floor.

The dark witch gently took a lock of her hair, letting the individual strands run over her fingers until just one remained. She fingered it idly, gazing at it almost lovingly.

Then she tore it out of the writhing woman's head at the root. She yelped in shock and jerked away, pulling herself desperately with scrambling hands trying to find purchase on the smooth surface. She sobbed on her side, tears leaking out onto the polished dark stones of the floor. The other wizards and witches watched her coldly and silently.

"Let me go!" she wailed. Her body shook violently with her sobs, though neither the Death Eaters nor their master seemed to notice. She mumbled and sobbed in a foreign language, a staccato fluttering of fast words. They spilled like tears from her mouth.

"Bellatrix," the pale wizard called again. The dark-haired witch turned back towards her master quickly with eager eyes.

"Your family has already disappointed me greatly this week," he said softly. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange trembled, knees still pressed into the floor with eyes cast downward. "Make sure it doesn't happen again," he said. Her eyes shone with fierce adoration. She nodded eagerly.

"I will be back soon, my Lord," she said breathily, as if she were speaking to a lover.

As she sauntered from the dark hall, she grabbed a crystal goblet, dipping it into a bubbling cauldron of a thick, muddy brown potion that sat on a table by the wall. She carefully placed the long dark hair into it, and the potion turned to a bright, clear red, the color of sunset. She drank it down with relish, gasping with satisfaction at the bottom of the glass before tossing it carelessly onto the table, where it landed with a dull thud and rolled haphazardly. She strolled into the light of the hallway.

As she moved through the long hall, robes billowing in the light from the high windows, her heavy-lidded eyes widened and pulled upward at the corners. Light seemed to seep into their dark depths. They molted into a warm amber against pink cheeks. Her strong jaw melted into a delicate angle, and her thin lips swelled full and red. Her wild hair straightened out into billowing waves, and her tall form shrank down a few inches. Her dark robes hung from her frame luxuriously.

The lips curled into a smile, and as she set out into the hot August evening sun, she thought of the small, round form of Peter Pettigrew.

_I hope you're ready for me_,_ Wormtail,_ she thought gleefully, and with a pop, she Disapparated for London.


	38. Of the Burdens of Silent Protectors

**A/N**: Totally unrelated to the very serious chapter coming up, but something I've noticed and find very amusing is that the chapters that receive the most hits tend to be the ones with the dirtiest, raunchiest action. Y'all are a bunch of perverts.

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38: Of the Burdens of Silent Protectors<strong>

Peter Pettigrew sat in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron with his eyes darting rapidly around various points in the room without direction. He tried desperately to hold the pint of butterbeer in his hands without spilling, but he hadn't been able to stop trembling for what seemed like days. Small spurts of the golden liquid dribbled from the mouth of the glass twitchily. His ears roared deafeningly, jumping from conversation to conversation within the pub, listening hard but not sure for exactly what. Each voice sounded higher than it should. Each laugh sounded like a cackle. Cold shivers ran up his spine in defiance of the heat.

The air was insufferably heavy with humidity – it seemed like it hadn't rained in months. There was a forecast for rain finally the next day, and Peter thought he might cry with relief at the very thought. He wore a jumper over his shirt to ensure that no stains seeped through, but the heat that built between the layers was excruciating. The jumper felt like a lead weight, and his shirt clung stickily to his back, with the salty sweat on his skin seeping into the deep gashes that were engraved into his back with mind-numbing stinging. He prayed desperately that the wounds wouldn't reopen while he was out, wiping the heavy sweat from his brow shakily.

Finally, he saw a tall young man with light brown hair step in from the late August heat. The long scar along his jaw was obvious even at the distance as he looked around the pub. His eyes finally fell upon Peter fondly, and a small smile spread across his lips as he moved towards his table. Peter smiled weakly with his chest painfully tight as he approached with a small but shaky wave. The small movement tugged at the cuts in his back – his hand shot back down to his lap. The sweat seemed to drip faster, and he cursed at himself silently, though he couldn't be sure for what anymore. Once again, he was shamefully weak, gazing up after the bright light of a star he couldn't reach.

* * *

><p>As Remus approached the back table of the Leaky Cauldron that Peter sat at, the warmth he felt at seeing his friend quickly melted into deep concern. Peter looked pale – even more so than usual – with deep rings beneath his eyes. He looked somewhat thinner even. His hair was matted with sweat, which was dripping off of him profusely. He sat rigidly with an unnaturally straight back and trembling hands. Was it the heat? He had no idea how Peter could possibly be wearing a jumper – Remus was wearing the thinnest work-appropriate clothes he owned, and he still felt constantly sticky with sweat and humidity. Something in his stomach turned slightly at the sight of his fellow Marauder.<p>

"Wormy," he greeted warmly, but with concern, as he sat down, "You okay, mate?"

"Yeah!" Peter squeaked, his voice very shrill and unnaturally high. He seemed to catch how bizarre he sounded and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, a little more normally this time. "You know, just a little put off from the heat!"

Peter's eyes were wide, darting around nervously. He looked even more rat-like than usual. It had been a long time since he'd seen him this jumpy, and he'd recently taken on a more confident stance, which he'd attributed to the man's relationship with Eris. He still didn't feel comfortable with the treasure hunter, but he was quite glad for her seemingly positive influence on his friend.

However, the changes now all seemed to have been reversed. Peter seemed to shrink into his seat, peering around them with slight panic. Remus' concern deepened.

"Peter," he said again, this time more seriously. Peter's gaze jerked back to him. "Did something happen?" he asked in a low voice. His muscles all seemed to tighten. Something clearly wasn't right.

Peter held his gaze with trembling eyes and mouth. Remus could nearly hear the deafening barrage of thoughts pouring from Peter's mind as he mustered his courage to answer.

"How is Rowan?" he asked. His voice was still high, tempo slow, afraid. Remus frowned but tried not to let on how perturbed he was. He was too worried about Peter's strange behavior to even consider how painful it was to think of the dark-haired girl.

"She's okay I think," he said carefully. "I haven't seen her since our weekly. Why do you ask?"

Peter jerked strangely – a weird version of a shrug. "Just wondering!" he responded shrilly. He cursed at himself again – why couldn't he keep his composure just this once? "She just seemed s-so… so upset the other night. I just th-thought maybe you could cheer her up!" He let out a soft but high and nervous laugh that seemed very awkward and misplaced. Remus watched his friend with deep concern, but before he could say anything, Peter continued.

"You two should get back together!" he blurted.

Remus wanted to bury his face in his hands with frustration. Why was everyone in his life pushing him to talk about this all of the sudden? He was beginning to think that they'd all discussed it prior and were orchestrating their efforts in unison as a team.

"What is it with that lately?" he muttered to himself tiredly under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His neck felt slightly cooler after, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Why do you say that?" he asked Peter.

Peter's mouth trembled, and his eyes deepened with fear. The strange tightness in his Remus' chest extended to his stomach. Something was very wrong.

"I j-just-," Peter stammered. His eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything in particular, darting around wildly again. His hands were absentmindedly wiping themselves against his pants at his thighs rhythmically like a strange ritual. The paleness of his face seemed to only grow, but he finally looked up at Remus, eyes blazing. Remus couldn't believe the fire there. He looked like a different man.

But before he could speak, a sultry voice interrupted them.

"Merlin, what a surprise to see you two here!"

Remus whipped around to see a pale heart-shaped face set against dark waves. A seductive set of full lips was spread into a smug smile directed at the two of them – it was Eris. The dark voice deep within him snarled for some reason that he couldn't explain. But the person next to her was what surprised Remus most – a young man in a fine, elegant suit with straw-colored hair. His wolf roared deafeningly at the sight of Barty Crouch Jr. He strained to keep the gut reaction from his face.

The young man smiled warmly at the two of them, showing no sign of noticing Remus' inner thrashing.

"Lupin, great to see you! Pettigrew," he greeted kindly, clapping Remus on the shoulder jovially and nodding to Peter. His eyes held only good intent, but Remus couldn't help but bristle inwardly. He forced a smile to his face.

"Good to see you, Barty. How have you been?" he asked politely. "Great job at the Ministry – you guys have been doing some fantastic work recently." He smirked to himself, knowing fully well that their "fantastic work" was in fact all thanks to the Order of the Phoenix.

Barty beamed. "Thanks, mate. It's been pretty busy with all the arrests, but we're really optimistic for some convictions. How've you been?"

"Oh, you know – same as usual," Remus answered vaguely. He didn't want to continue this conversation for any longer than necessary. He glanced towards Eris, who was watching their conversation earnestly. "How do you two know each other?" he asked.

Barty glanced over at her and smiled. "Oh, Ms. Eripice came across some rare goblin-made pieces my father has his eye on. We were just meeting to discuss them over lunch," he said.

Eris smiled broadly. "Yes, it's quite the coincidence that we ran into you two," she said. She then turned to Peter. "Sweetheart, I wish you'd told me you had lunch plans with Remus. We could have walked over together from work," Eris cooed. She trailed her hand through Peter's sweat-drenched hair with long nails scraping against his scalp slowly. He shuddered slightly as he imagined the sweat pooling beneath her nails. He thought of a black spider wrapping its long legs around a fly.

Her expression was warm, but Remus still felt incredibly uneasy. He turned back to see Peter. The round man was not shaking as much as before, but he was stone still, as if he'd been petrified. His eyes were wide; mouth slack in an expression of purely distilled fear. He barely breathed. Remus began to speak before he could stop himself.

"Actually, we were just finishing up," he said quickly, forcing himself not to glance back at Peter. He could feel his friend perk up and wanted to kick him. "Have to get back to work – busy day," he said.

Barty smiled. "Ah, that's too bad," he said disappointedly. "But yes, don't want to keep you! I hope we catch you sooner next time," he said. His eyes flickered with something indiscernible.

Remus forced a stiff smile. "Yeah, definitely."

* * *

><p>Barty and his companion stared after the retreating forms with flashing eyes. The young man's mouth was set into a tight straight line while the woman's red lips curved into a broad grin that could only be described as excited. Her honey-colored eyes blazed with a spark. Even her posture held a visible charge, like a prowling spider ready to pounce.<p>

"Oh, he is in trouble," she drawled. Her voice spoke lowly with great anticipation. It dripped with pleasure.

Her male companion, however, chewed his lip with slight concern. He stared after the door as he saw the taller man disappear behind it with a clenching heat in his stomach that he identified as anger. He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for that damned werewolf – Rowan would be eating out of the palm of his hand by now if it weren't for him. He'd still be in his master's good graces – wouldn't be partnered with this psychotic bitch – if it weren't for Remus Lupin. He wanted nothing more than to carve his name into the Half-breed's back, just as he had with his sniveling rodent of a friend.

"Don't concern yourself over them, Crouch," cooed "_Eris."_ She leisurely sat down at the table that the two other men had abandoned moments before, taking a long swig from the pint that Peter had left behind with great relish. Her eyes danced with laughter. "We'll find little Squirmy Wormy later tonight and pull the conversation with the Half-breed out of him. No need to worry about it now." She rested her chin upon a long-fingered hand and smiled, broad and scarlet. "Besides, it's not like he can do much anyway, can he? There's never been a more useless man as poor, pathetic Peter."

Barty nodded vaguely, but the worry remained. True, Peter Pettigrew was quite possibly the most pitiful wizard in Britain, but he'd still gone against their orders to not contact his friends until they gave him permission. To see him with Lupin alone was worrying considering the man's relationship with Rowan. He still needed that girl as a gateway to the Order of the Phoenix, and if Lupin even considered going back to Rowan, he knew she'd be completely beyond his reach – Dumbledore and the Order would be beyond his reach.

He sat down with the anger still flaring in his chest. He hoped spitefully that Peter's back wounds hadn't closed yet – he would dig much deeper tonight. He would make sure that Peter Pettigrew never disobeyed him again.

* * *

><p>Despite the excruciating heat, Peter felt his lungs expand with relief as Remus pulled him out of the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as they hit the sidewalk, the taller man grabbed his arm and began pulling him down the street and out of Diagon Alley. The fast movement tugged at the wounds in his back painfully, and he winced with each step. He wanted to vomit from the strain.<p>

When they reached the I.C.E., Remus tugged Peter into the building, down long, winding hallways filled with men and women in long white lab coats and even a strange assortment of magical creatures. Eventually, he found himself in a small, white office filled with books and cages of what looked like kappas with bared teeth and tiny hands full of cucumbers. Remus sat him down in a seat and filled a glass of cold water, shoving it into his hands. The sudden chill shot through his bones. He felt quite lost.

"Here, drink this," Remus murmured before sitting down across from Peter. He looked at Peter with a hard look. He trembled again. "What the hell was all of that back there?" he asked. It was nearly a growl.

Peter felt his hands shake again, placing the glass on Remus' desk before he could spill it on anything important. He gripped his pants to try to still his hands, but to no avail. One of the kappas slapped its cucumber against the bars of the cage and snarled at him aggressively as if it knew just how weak he was. He felt even more pathetic.

"I-" he started, but couldn't continue. He thought of groomed straw-colored hair coming out of place with shaking fury, flashes of red light reflected in brown eyes. He thought of contorting faces, full, seductive lips thinning to cruel grins and shrieking laughter. His entire body shook and heat stung behind his eyes. His stomach seized painfully with sick nausea.

Remus watched him carefully with his mouth in a taut line. He hadn't felt so weak in several months. Why had things turned out this way? What had he done to deserve this kind of pain?

"Pete," Remus said softly, "Something is wrong with Eris, isn't it?" he asked lowly.

Peter jerked up. "No!" he blurted. His face burned with shame. He could feel her long fingers wrap around his neck, her wand carving curses into his back. Remus looked at him with furrowed brows, obviously disbelieving. "No, it's just that… that…" he stammered, mind groping for straws desperately.

"We had a row the other day!" he said quickly. He tightness in his chest slackened slightly with relief, but Remus' expression was still skeptical.

"I wasn't ready to see her yet, which is why I was so nervous earlier. I'll make up with her later though," he explained quickly. "Don't worry about it!" He laughed nervously and kicked himself for how hysterical he sounded. Remus obviously still didn't believe him.

"Peter," he started gravely. His gaze was dark. "If y-"

Sickly pale skin and red eyes flashed in his mind. His back burned.

"I'm fine, Remus!" he shot back suddenly. Remus jolted slightly at the sudden interjection with wide eyes. Peter kicked himself again. He'd never been so rude to Remus. Why couldn't he be more natural? He needed to change the subject _now_.

"You have to get back together with Rowan!" he blurted again.

Remus stared hard at Peter. He felt his face burn under his friend's intensity, but Remus didn't respond. He took the opportunity to push forward and take control of the conversation's direction. The gashes in his back stung bitterly.

_You will listen to me, Wormtail._

"You two belong together," Peter said shrilly. "She shouldn't be with Barty. She should be with you!" Remus' gazed still held, eyeing him warily. Something dark flickered in his gaze. Peter trembled. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, his jaw chattering and trembling, but he pushed forward.

"With the way things are going, you should be with the ones you love the most!" he argued. His mind was a cluster of chaos. He could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone express them. Rowan's face – the way her eyes burned for him so many months ago – glowed behind his eyes.

"Please, Remus," he begged shrilly. "She loves you! Don't you love her too? How can you stand to see her with someone else?" He felt his eyes sting hotly and tried desperately to blink the tears away. "She's been waiting and waiting for you, and yet you're going to keep pushing her away when there are so many reasons to be with her?"

His eyes bored into Remus, who continued to stare at him with a hard, indiscernible expression, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tight. He searched his face frantically for any sign that he comprehended his words.

_Please hear me_, he begged silently.

"How can you…" He felt the burning in his back spread down his limbs, into his lungs. He saw pale skin and red eyes. He heard high-pitched laughter resonate through his chest, into his stomach. Red light flashed behind the amber eyes that had been engraved into his heart. He wanted to cry.

"How can you be apart from her?" he breathed.

Everything in him seemed to drip away – the air, the fire in his blood, his heat, his blood; _everything._ The sound of shrill laughter bore down on him heavily, and he trembled beneath its weight. He thought of pale skin, smooth cold scales slithering around him, the feeling of his bones and skin twisting under the fire of a long-fingered, white hand.

He felt her slipping away, fading into the red light. Everything in him ached. If he couldn't do this… If he couldn't even save _her_, then for what had he endured all the agony? His mind screamed. _Please hear me._

"Okay," Remus said.

Peter's head jerked up to see Remus gazing at him, almost dejectedly. He didn't dare believe what he'd heard.

"You're right," Remus said quietly. He ran his hands through his hair slowly, fingers tugging at the brown and gray strands. "You're all right," Remus said to himself.

Peter wanted to throw himself at Remus' feet, kiss the ground he walked on, but he couldn't find his voice. His eyes burned, but he blinked away the tears, grateful that Remus' gaze remained downward. His chest felt like it could explode at any moment with gratitude. Remus would be there. He would be there for her! If Remus were there, she would be safe. He'd protect her. It didn't matter if he'd dirtied himself. It didn't matter if she never knew how much he wanted those bright gazes for himself. She would be safe.

"I just…" Remus started quietly. Peter watched him with bated breath. The taller man kept his gaze downward – long, scarred fingers dangling between his knees. "I don't know…" he trailed off. Peter could see the battle waging inside of his friend.

"You have to talk to her," Peter breathed.

Remus' head jerked up and stared incredulously at Peter. The smaller man's face burned red, but he moved forward. This was it. He just needed to push forward – _just a little further._

"You just need to talk to her," Peter said again. His eyes blazed with determination. Remus was slightly taken aback by the sudden ferocity in his friend's expression – he had never seen him look so strong before. He felt surprisingly weak in comparison.

"You have to tell her how you feel and that you're there to stay," Peter said. His voice trembled slightly, but his face was determined, his jaw much more square than Remus had ever seen. "She probably won't believe you at first, but you have to show her how much you love her. You have to prove that you're there to stay."

"I know all of that," Remus said quietly. "I just don't know how." He looked down at his hands.

"I don't either," Peter admitted, "but you know her better than anyone else, don't you? You'll find a way."

Remus looked at Peter with a searching expression, and Peter felt the bricks of his fortifications being pulled out one by one. The panic began to seize his chest again, but then the corner of Remus' lips twitched slightly – the smallest of smiles. It was so small, and yet so bright.

"Thank you, Peter," he said quietly.

Peter smiled genuinely back. The two men sat in silence, simply enjoying the stillness between them and the momentary reprieve from the heat. Peter vaguely thought how strange it was to hope for Rowan to give Remus another chance, and yet he'd never wanted anything so badly in his entire life. His thoughts were interrupted by another question.

"If something was wrong… If you were in trouble, you'd tell me, right?" Remus asked slowly.

Peter nodded without thinking. He didn't trust his own voice. The brief contentment he'd just had fell away, and the fear gripped his chest again. He prayed he'd have the opportunity to see Rowan and Remus together again – prayed he'd be able to see her safe and happy. A shiver crept up his spine that had nothing to do with the icy glass in his hands. He knew he'd be seeing Barty Crouch and "Eris" later that evening. The cuts in his back burned.


	39. Of the Relief & Sorrow of Rain

**A/N**: Rejoice, peasants, for I finally give you what you have requested! ... sort of.

**casualmoose:** First of all, I really like your penname! Second, THANK YOU! I'm so happy you've enjoyed the story/characters so much! Thank you for reading and the awesome review. Please let me know what you think of the coming chapters!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thank you as always! You're the best!

**missalex3030:** Yes, that's exactly right. He's aware of Bellatrix and Barty now and went against their orders to not contact his friends because he wanted to protect Rowan, though he obviously can't tell Remus that. Thanks for the review as always! ^^

**S38:** Thanks for the incredibly thoughtful review! You raise some really good points/questions, and I'm so thrilled that the story has drawn interesting comparisons to the themes of the original work for you. Yes, I will be following canon still mostly - Harry can't become the Boy Who Lived without Lily and James dying, after all T-T As for the Secret Keeper, you'll see... ^^

**Lovirosa:** Hahaha you're so cute! Your reviews always make me smile. Thank you, and please enjoy! It's [sort of] what you wanted?

**REVIEW MEEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 39: Of the Relief and Sorrow of Rain<strong>

A week passed quietly after the mission in Wigtown, and Rowan was grateful to not hear from Remus since their weekly Order meeting. She'd buried herself in her work to block the thoughts of him and Evan Rosier from crawling back into her head; however, it seemed that no matter what she did, either the dark images of Rosier's final curses or the feeling of Remus' arms around her made their way back into her mind. At random moments, she'd succumbed to strange bouts of anger directed aimlessly, eventually dissolving into quiet tears and silent rage. She'd also found herself frequently waking in the middle of the night coated in a thin sheen of cold sweat and stomach seizing with fear and fury.

Rowan had tried to take Remus, James, and Dumbledore's words to heart, but while the bitter taste left in her mouth from the massacre at Lestrange Manor was slowly fading away with each day, Remus' sudden disappearance from her apartment had hurt much more than she'd expected. She had finally stopped missing his involvement in her life as more than a friend, and then he'd wormed his way back into it and then disappeared just as quickly.

_As always_, she thought bitterly.

Really, shouldn't she have known? She never should have allowed him to step foot in her flat after the mission. She should have asked for her key back months ago. He still had it now! She had no one to blame but herself for being in this terrible relationship – or whatever it was. She hated the anger and feelings of spite she was beginning to feel towards Remus – after all, he was just as lost as she was – but it was growing more and more difficult with each day to not resent him as well.

She'd gone back to see Derek McKinnon once more at St. Mungo's, but he sadly remained unresponsive. Beyond that, she'd spent all of her time in her lab at Delacroix Manor and in her apartment playing her violin. She'd considered putting aside the sheet music that Barty had given her for her birthday the month before but decided it'd be a waste. They were surprisingly sad pieces – not what she would have expected from him – and they were quickly becoming part of her regular repertoire.

Alfred and her mother had been eyeing her warily for the past week. Carole had confronted her after a few days of this routine of eerily quiet work, but Rowan had brushed it off. She knew she couldn't completely hide it from her mother – no doubt Carole and Alfred had put the news of the Wigtown Death Eater massacre and her sudden depression together – but she couldn't stand the thought of talking about what had happened with either of them. As an Order member, she wasn't even allowed to discuss it. She just hoped they'd continue to accept that excuse.

It was finally the first day of September, and the sky was very gray though the weather was still hot. She'd spent most of the afternoon in her lab studying for her P.A.T.s and going over her old notes from her work in Belby's shop, but the dark whispers in her mind began to prove too much for her to concentrate efficiently. She left with a brief goodbye to Alfred and her mother and Apparated back to London with the beginning clenches of simmering anger in her stomach.

As soon as Rowan hit the pavement of her street, she immediately took her shoes off. A few people stared at her as she tore the socks and trainers from her feet and walked barefoot on the hot sidewalk, but she didn't care. It was sickeningly humid, and the air stuck to her like an extra layer of skin. Her mind was a deaf downpour, and all she wanted to do was peel her clothes off and play her violin in her underwear for the rest of the afternoon until the voices subsided. She crawled up the stairs quietly to her flat with the cool wood pressing into her feet soothingly, and as she opened the door, she threw her shoes to the side. She leaned against the door with her eyes closed and released a sigh that she hadn't known she'd been holding. The cool air of her apartment seeped into her muscles.

"Rowan."

She jumped with a slight yelp and thrust her wand blindly forward. Her lungs heaved with fear, but as she looked around wildly, she saw that Remus stood at her table with wide eyes and hands up. She froze for a moment, staring at him blankly. The panic slowly dripped away, and as she lowered her wand, she ran a hand through her hair with quickly building anger. Her arms fell limply to her sides.

"Order of fucking Merlin… Seriously?" she asked irritably."You can't just come into my apartment whenever you want anymore! It's completely inappropriate!"

He was the last person she wanted to see, and he, of course, had decided to come see her on her moodiest day yet this week. Why did he always seem to show up when she was at her worst?

Remus grimaced with guilt. "I'm sorry. I just needed to see you," he said quietly. Rowan snorted.

"Well, you've seen me," she said, limply flopping her arms. She moved from the doorway towards her wardrobe and began undressing, apathetic to Remus' eyes. It didn't really matter anymore – he'd seen it all, and she was angry beyond decorum. She almost hoped it hurt him to see what he had given up – she wanted him to regret ever leaving her.

"I mean I needed to talk to you," he continued. She yanked her blouse over her head with mild frustration and threw it to the side with her laundry. She pulled a t-shirt and pair of shorts from her wardrobe then started shimmying out of her jeans.

"I've been thinking… about the other morning," he added. She unhooked her bra and added it to the pile, suddenly feeling much cooler as she pulled the clean t-shirt shirt over her head.

"And?" she asked blandly.

She wasn't sure if she much cared anymore. It all seemed so petty now. The dark urges were gone, thanks in part to him, but it didn't matter if she was understood her anger or if he was there or not. He had been so close and then he was gone, as always. Their moment had passed, and time was quickly moving again beyond it. She flicked her wand. A clinking glass floated from the cabinets and towards the sink. She flicked her wand again, and the faucet filled the glass with cold water. It then shot to her hand, and she drank it down with relish. She felt it trickle icily down her throat, spreading throughout her stomach.

"I saw Barty the other day," he said suddenly.

Rowan's mouth twisted with confusion but ignored it. She'd hear him out, wait for an opening, and then make him leave. She wasn't going to put up with his misplaced jealousy any longer. She placed the glass on the dresser with a light clink of glass against wood.

"And?" she asked again impatiently.

"Have you seen him recently?" he asked. The light tone of his voice gave her pause, but then she heard the rumble in his throat at the end. She felt a slow burning in her gut in anticipation.

"A few days ago," she said defiantly. She punctuated her statement with a turn and sharp look. She was startled to see his eyes were burning angrily. He hadn't shown so much jealousy over Barty in ages, and certainly not to her face. It only served to fuel her own anger.

"You need to break things off with him," he growled. A normal person would've asked, not ordered, she reasoned angrily. She tore her gaze away from him spitefully, and she could feel his anger flare in response.

"Actually, he asked to make things more official," she said venomously. She was leaving out the fact that she _had_ indeed broken up with Barty, but she didn't want to give him any reason to feel satisfied. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted the wounds to be as painful as he'd left hers. She glanced out the window and saw the gray sky swirling. It would rain soon. A small twinge of relief twanged through her stomach. Perhaps they would finally be relieved of the humidity.

But then rough hands grasped her wrists and she was being jerked forward. His eyes burned into her. She felt herself falter but held onto her wits desperately.

"And what did you tell him?" Remus breathed angrily. She felt his heat soak into her skin.

Her mind swam for a moment from the overwhelming waves before her eyes refocused. Her temper flared again, and she pushed him away from her roughly. He staggered, but barely, still standing only a foot away from her. It felt like no space at all.

"What do you fucking care?" she snarled.

She grabbed the glass from the dresser and stomped towards the sink. She heard him stalk after her swiftly and quietly, but she ignored him. She slapped the faucet handle roughly, and the room was filled with the singing of running water. It bounced over her coolly. She felt relieved just from the sound. She breathed it in, soothing her burning lungs, as it filled her glass again.

"Rowan," Remus finally said from behind her. He spoke softly, contritely. She felt vindicated and savored it. But she continued to ignore him. She turned the running water off and took another long gulp from her glass.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Her eyebrows furrowed with lips squeezed together. She stared hard at the clear glass, which was now clasped tightly between her hands. Her reflection was strangely distorted in its surface. Perhaps the Rowan she saw there was actually one in another parallel universe. How would their stories differ in the end?

A hand touched her shoulder softly, and once again, she felt him turning her slowly towards him. But instead of stare weakly at his chest as she had in so many situations before, she met his gaze hotly. She was determined to finally see this resolved this time.

"I'm sorry for leaving the other day. I just…" He wrung his hair with nervous fingers. "I just needed to think. I can never think clearly around you," he said quietly.

She held in a snort but still spoke dully, "I was under the impression you didn't think at all."

He gave a small rueful smile. The small scar on his upper lip stretched with his mouth. It was so endearing, so very like him. She hated the way it quelled the fire in her stomach slightly. She mentally stoked it again so it continued to burn, determined not to let him win.

"Maybe," he admitted quietly. His fingers danced against hers softly. She wanted to swat them away but couldn't find purchase over her own hands.

"This is… hard for me to say," he continued quietly. She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch with effort again, eyes darting around her face searchingly. "I've spent nearly a year denying everything I've felt, trying to convince myself that I could let you go when the time came. It's… difficult to come to terms with all of it."

Her throat constricted. So he was finally going to leave her for good - _good_. She held her chin high. She wouldn't cry in front of him, not this time. She would stay strong in front of this man. He didn't deserve to see her tears again.

"I made a promise to your father… right before he died," he said. Rowan's eyes widened at the sudden thought of Richard. Her chest ached as his face flashed at the back of her mind.

Remus grimaced knowingly but continued. "He made me promise that when the war was over, I'd either commit to you or leave you completely. I-" he paused. Rowan wondered if her lungs had turned to stone.

"I told him I'd leave you – that I'd let you move on," he admitted quietly. His eyes didn't meet hers, and she couldn't be sure if it was with remorse or consideration for her feelings. Her stomach tightened with nausea, sickened at how much of an effect he still had on her. She turned her head away as well with simmering shame.

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered. His head jerked up to see her staring dully at the dying monkshood blossoms at the end of her counter. The purple flowers had shriveled and darkened, nearly gray. She wanted to see them burn.

"You didn't have to tell me any of this. I could've guessed that's what you'd do on my own," she said bitterly. The little bit of water that remained at the bottom of the glass vase was brown and cloudy. Dead bits of leaves and petals floated in it. She imagined that she was one of the leaves.

"No," Remus whispered.

Rowan felt herself recoil at his protest, but she kept her gaze averted. She was afraid to meet his eye – afraid of how she'd react to what she saw there. He had already seen her weaknesses too thoroughly. She didn't need to fall apart in front of him again.

But then she felt gentle hands cup her jaw softly, turning her face so that she had to look at him. She raised her chin defiantly at him, eyes burning. He gazed at her tenderly with so much regret and shame that she wanted to cry in spite of herself. But she swallowed it down and kept her face hard. She wouldn't back down now.

"I made a promise to your father," he admitted. "But I have to break it."

Rowan felt her stomach hit her heart. Every muscle in her body clenched painfully. She couldn't breathe.

"I ran away from you the other day like a coward, right when you needed me the most," he said ruefully. His grasp on her face was so warm. The pads of his fingers were so familiarly rough, and yet so gentle. He smiled guiltily "It seems I'm always doing that with you. I just… I couldn't think. I had to think about what I needed to do, what I wanted.

"And I've always wanted you," he said fervently. Rowan felt her lips tremble and berated herself mentally for the small lapse in self-control. "Always – it's always been you. But I've proven to myself over and over again that I can't protect you.

"But I've realized that I've been leaning on that excuse for much too long, and that's exactly what it is – an excuse," he said bitterly. Rowan's brows furrowed with simultaneous understanding and confusion. The mixture was mentally overwhelming.

"I've used you to punish myself for my own weaknesses, and in the process, I've hurt you even more," he admitted remorsefully. "I've left you to suffer alone, silently. It's shameful how weak I am.

"I told your father that I'd leave you, but I've shown myself again and again that I can't. _I can't_. I want to be with you, to share my life with you in all ways, even if that means hurting you.

"So please – _please _- be with me. I won't share you, not with Barty, not with anyone," he whispered. Rowan's lips trembled against her will. She felt heat burn behind her eyes.

"I want all of you, and I promise to give you everything I have and am in return. Please, Rowan," he whispered.

He pressed his forehead against hers, and his words sank into her skin like warm rain. His heat was overwhelming. Her head swam. She fought desperately to make sense of her screaming thoughts. They seemed to speak in a language she didn't understand.

"You've said all of this before," she whispered bitterly.

Remus pulled away slowly, still holding her face between his hands. His eyes burned into hers, mouth twisting with grief. His eyes shined so brightly that they stung her, but she kept strong. She pushed forward.

"You've left me twice now," she said, a little more firmly. She made sure her gaze remained hard. "The first time you asked me to give you another chance, you said you'd take anything I had to offer, and yet you pushed me away again right when I needed you most. Isn't there a saying about someone being likely to do something they've already done once? How can you seriously expect me to believe you?"

She pulled away from him gently, and Remus' hands fell away from her slowly. His eyes searched her face desperately. She held his gaze evenly, challengingly.

"What can I do?" he asked quietly.

Rowan ran her eyes over his features. His lips were twisted sadly, eyes melting with guilt. She knew every line, every scar by heart. She could sculpt his likeness blindly from memory using just her fingers and clay, and yet she couldn't be sure if she knew him at all.

"I don't know," she said tiredly. She looked away finally. Her limbs felt very heavy, fatigued. They were no longer sore from the mission at Lestrange Manor, but she felt a dull ache score through her again. His fingers grazed hers beseechingly, but she balled her fists tightly in response. She wouldn't give in this time.

"Give me a chance," he breathed. She felt his breath against her temple as he leaned forward. She suppressed a shiver. "Just one more chance, Rowan. Please."

She closed her eyes and felt her head bow. She felt like she was seventeen again in the boys' dorm, being swept away by his familiar touch and pretty words of devotion. But she wasn't a teenager anymore. She was a soldier now. She had scars that would never heal, nightmares that might not fade for a long time to come. Theirs wasn't a story of school romance anymore, and who knew if there was a happy ending for either of them.

"I just don't know, Remus," she whispered.

They stood in silence for what seemed like a small eternity. She felt the room sway around her gently, like waves lapping onto the shore. His fingers grazed the tightness of her fists, but just barely. She nearly expected him to spirit away with the quickly fading light of the evening.

Rowan kept her gaze on his chest, ignoring the heat that pooled between them. His words grazed her face, combed through her hair. A part of her screamed, begging with her to believe him, but at this point, words didn't mean anything. She'd heard them all before.

There was a light pattering on the window – it had begun to rain.

"I will always love you," he said. His voice harmonized with the soft sounds of water. "And I'll keep trying to win you back, no matter how long it takes."

Rowan's eyes stung hotly, but she bit the tears away. How could he continue to be so cruel? She refused to show weakness to him. She'd keep firm in this. She thought her entire body might burst into flames.

"I still can't believe you," she whispered. She couldn't even bear to look at him.

He didn't respond, but his grasp on her hands remained. They felt so strange there. The longer she thought about it, the more alien his touch seemed – after all, they'd been broken up for nearly a year now. Didn't it make sense to not remember his touch well anymore? Parents and friends lost, injuries sustained and scars engraved – hadn't they both changed immensely since they'd split up?

"Tell me what to do," he finally said. His hands left hers and nudged her gaze upward so that she locked eyes with him. His expression was so heated, eyes blazing. She didn't know how she wasn't burning away beneath his hands.

"I will do anything to win your trust back, but I know that it will take time," he said fervently. Her lips trembled, but she no longer had the will to fight it. "If you need months, even years, to forgive me, I understand. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

Rowan searched his face for even a flicker of uncertainty, but his gaze was unbreakable. She was so confused.

"What's happened to you in the past week that's made you change your mind so suddenly?" she asked incredulously.

Remus seemed to remember something funny. His mouth twitched into a gentle smile. She wanted to hate it desperately.

"Sometimes when the universe keeps pushing us in one direction, that's where we need to go," he said softly. His thumb brushed over her cheek like a whisper.

Rowan's brows furrowed with confusion, and his lips twitched with fond amusement. The scar there caught her eye as always. Her head swam with frustration. How was this happening? When he pulled away, his smile straightened back out to a more serious expression. He gazed at her intently.

"What do you need me to do to prove how serious I am?" he asked quietly. "Because I am serious – I'll do whatever it takes. Just say the word."

Rowan stared up at him hard. She felt very drained, but she knew what her answer was without thinking.

"No," she said firmly.

Remus' eyes widened, and she saw fear flicker through them for the first time. She realized how odd that seemed – had he been so sure that she'd take him back? She felt the anger stir in her stomach slowly again at a low heat.

"I won't tell you what to do. If you want to earn back my trust, you need to figure it out for yourself," she said defiantly. His mouth tightened with confusion. "Giving you a checklist or a series of ultimatums won't prove to me that you're not going to leave me again. If you're for real, you'll do it on your own.

"But you've hurt me," she added bitterly. She kept her gaze even with his so that he'd feel the brunt of her words. She saw him falter for a moment with guilt. "Even if you try to 'win me back' or whatever, I don't know if I can ever trust you again. You can try all you want, but I'll make no promises."

Remus' eyes searched her face rapidly. She could see the panic well up and then pull away like the tide. Understanding seemed to spread slowly across his features, and then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"Alright," he said resolutely.

His eyes blazed with heat. She thought vaguely that green had never looked so warm. It spread through her chest slowly, despite her mind screaming at it not to. It felt much too similar to hope, and she wanted none of it. She wouldn't expect or wish for anything from this man – she'd receive nothing but disappointment in return.

His hands cradled her cheeks, rough fingers brushing against her skin. It was all too much.

"You can fight me all you want, Winnie," he said fervently, "but we were meant to be together."

Rowan felt the fire overtake her. Even the wind and rain of the storm outside couldn't put it out.


	40. Of Drops on the Surface

**A/N**: Sorry for the wait. Been busy a lousy week. Here's an extra long fluffy chapter to make up for it.

**missalex3030: **Thank you! I also freak the fuck out when I get email notifications about your reviews haha ^^ I'm so glad you approve of Rowan's development!

**snuffles95:** Thank you thank you! :D Here is some of the beginnings of that "proving wrong" that you mentioned!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thank you as always! I'm so happy everyone seems to appreciate Rowan's skepticism!

**casualmoose:** Hahaha your response made me really happy. Rowan's confidence is holding strong, but Remus is putting in some effort today!

**lovirosa:** Thank you so much! I'm so glad you approved! I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 40: Of Drops on the Surface<strong>

The storm that overtook London seemed coincidentally well timed. Though it would be ridiculous to think that the dark whispers and nightmares would fade away in a week, Rowan couldn't help but think that the city felt much cleaner after the rain. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could truly breathe again without feeling as if she were swimming through the air itself, and the weather took on much more autumnal tones. The relief was immeasurable.

Remus didn't stay at Rowan's apartment the night of the storm, nor the night after or the night after that. Three weeks passed quickly with very little change in her daily routine except that every evening, he would be on her doorstep waiting for her, and on the weekends, he was there in the afternoon, sometimes in the morning. The first few days he'd shown up, she'd looked at him like he'd grown another head and left him standing on her front stoop, but he'd kept showing up until she'd finally allowed him to come in with her, just to muffle the feelings of guilt she was quickly developing - he just looked so pathetically hopeful standing there, waiting for her to come home like a loyal dog. She wasn't sure if she was more frustrated with him or herself.

Since then, she'd humored his new attempts to court her again despite feeling very little enthusiasm. There had been a few days, however, that she'd been too tired to handle his presence, but even when she snapped at him moodily, he'd gone home without protest, kissing her on the cheek wordlessly goodbye and giving her the space she needed. On the days she begrudgingly let him inside, he left before it got too late, and though he had shyly begun treating her more affectionately, he never pushed her to reciprocate. She wasn't even sure _how_ to, if she were to be honest.

At the couple of Order meetings since Remus' change of heart, their friends had been thrilled to see the change, to say the very least. Rowan was sure James and Lily's faces might break if they kept grinning at her so broadly every time she saw them. Sirius had punched Remus on the shoulder so roughly with happiness that the lighter-haired man's knees had buckled slightly, and Molly Weasley had embarrassed her greatly by exclaiming in front of the entire organization how happy she was to see them together again. She wanted to protest – they _weren't_ together again – but there was no getting a word in edgewise with these people. She supposed it was to be expected when the great majority of her friends were Gryffindors.

The most surprising had, in fact, been Peter's reaction. He'd missed the first meeting – he'd come down with the flu apparently – but when she saw him at the next, he looked at her as if he would break down into tears of joy. He'd held her hands with such warmth, spoke with such unbridled happiness, that he looked like a completely different person. Seeing the dark rings under his eyes and the paleness of his face – he must have had a truly terrible case of the flu - she hadn't had the heart to tell him that she hadn't actually forgiven Remus yet.

It was honestly becoming quite annoying how pleased everyone seemed to be – she certainly didn't feel the same way. It was difficult to not feel overwhelmed by it all when everyone around her was so excited. Remus seemed to have noticed how uncomfortable the premature celebrating made her and suggested they spend time together without the company of their friends, much to her relief, though she found it frustrating how pleased_ he_ had seemed with all of it.

It was nearing the end of September, and Rowan had finally started feeling confident about her P.A.T.s. She knew it wasn't until January, but her father had ingrained in her head that it was "impossible to be too ready." She took the saying to heart and continued a rigorous regimen of studying and note recovery. She'd managed to recover a good amount of Belby's old notes from memory and was confident she'd have enough to begin testing again as soon as she got her Potioneer's license. As far as she was concerned, January couldn't come soon enough.

It was Friday, and the end of the day quickly arrived. She headed up the stairs slowly from the basement, stretching her stiff muscles out with flailing arms. Alfred sat in the kitchen reading _The Daily Prophet_ with a cup of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits. She sat down and snatched one up, shoving it into her mouth ungracefully. He glared pointedly at her.

"Okay, I know I taught you better than that," he scolded. Rowan grinned back cheekily, teeth coated with mashed up chocolate. Alfred blanched and made a gagging noise. She gave a muffled boyish chuckle and poured herself a cup of tea, gulping it down and washing the biscuit away with it.

"It continues to amaze me that you have so many handsome suitors when your table manners are appalling," Alfred said haughtily. "Please tell me you don't do these things when you're out with Master Crouch."

"Actually, I broke things off with him nearly a month ago," she said flippantly, grabbing the sports section from Alfred's paper. An article about the Chudley Cannons pulling an upsetting win over the Appleby Arrows caught her eye. No doubt the Weasleys would be quite pleased.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Really? I was under the impression that things were going quite well with you two," he said.

Rowan shrugged. "We had an agreement. He and his father didn't follow through with their side, so there was no use in continuing," she said casually over the paper.

Alfred nodded in understanding then smirked. "Tell me you at least shagged him," he said teasingly.

"Aren't you supposed to be a parental figure?" she said glaringly.

Alfred shrugged. "As your caretaker, I'm concerned about all of your needs," he said. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "_All_ of them."

Rowan pretended to vomit into her teacup, and he laughed in response. "Oh please, like you didn't at least imagine it – he's a sexy little thing, and it's not like you're getting any from Remus anymore," he said. Rowan felt her face burn and hid her face behind her paper as discreetly as she could, but of course he noticed.

"Rowan," he started slowly. "Please tell me you and Remus aren't…" He gave her a reproachful look.

Rowan slapped the paper down onto the table. There was no use trying to avoid the conversation – he wasn't going to drop it until he got some answers.

"No," she said firmly. She shifted uneasily though.

"But…?" Alfred pushed.

Rowan sighed. He could always read her. Was she really so transparent? "He asked me to take him back… about a few weeks ago," she said with exasperation.

Alfred frowned. "And you said no, of course, right?" he said lowly. "Tell me that's not the real reason you broke things off with Crouch." She could hear the anger flaring testily in his voice. He still obviously held a grudge against the young man for the last time he'd hurt her.

"No, of course not!" she protested. "Remus asked _after_ things had ended with Barty, and he hadn't even known about that." Alfred looked slightly relieved but stared pointedly for her to continue. She sighed.

"I didn't give him an answer," she said honestly. Alfred's expression darkened. "He asked me to tell him what to do to win me back, and I said I wouldn't. I told him he'd have to figure it out for himself," she argued.

"Rowan," Alfred said warningly.

"I know, I know!" she said. "But I haven't promised him anything! He's doing all of this on his own."

"But you're not discouraging him either," he countered testily. "And what is he _doing_ exactly?"

Rowan wanted to groan in frustration. "I don't know… Nothing big, I suppose. He just shows up every evening to hang out and takes me out sometimes."

"Has he tried to make a move on you?" Alfred asked darkly.

"No," Rowan said firmly. She tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in her stomach – she wasn't sure why it was there to begin with. "The most he's done is kiss me on the cheek."

Alfred's expression remained dark, but she waved it off. "Really, Al, you don't need to worry about it. He'll bail sooner or later anyway – he always does. I'm fine," she said casually. Her chest tightened at the thought, but she pushed it away. She refused to even consider the possibility of other outcomes.

The older man assessed her carefully but then relented. "If you say so," he said skeptically.

Rowan smiled and got up to leave. "On that note, he's probably sitting in my flat right now. I should go kick him out," she said half-jokingly. Alfred nodded but eyed her warily. As she moved to leave, she turned back around, remembering something.

"Can you not mention this to Mum? I don't want her stressing about nothing," she said. Alfred nodded.

"Alright, but you should tell her before too long. You know how angry she'll be if she finds out from someone else," he said. Rowan nodded.

"I will. Thanks. See you Monday," she said before turning and leaving the kitchen.

* * *

><p>"Fuck!" Rowan cursed.<p>

As soon as she Apparated back into London, she was hit with a sudden downpour of rain. Within ten seconds, she looked as if she'd jumped into a pool. She ran down the street quickly, holding her bag to her chest – she couldn't risk the rain soaking through to her notes. She sprinted through the rain, squinting to prevent the water from seeping into her eyes. She felt it creep into her shoes wetly and cringed at the feeling of her toes squishing noisily against her socks.

As she reached her building, her blood drained momentarily. Remus stood on her doorstep, completely drenched. His hair clung to his face, white dress shirt nearly transparent from the rain. She ran up the steps to meet him, tripping slightly over her own feet.

_"What are you doing out here?_" she shouted over the pounding rain. He smiled guiltily at her but didn't say anything as she pushed her key into the door. She moved inside quickly, and he followed, shaking his hair out like a dog and splashing her in the process. She wrung her own hair out and checked on her bag – still somewhat dry. She felt a small wave of relief and then looked back up at Remus, who had untucked his shirt and was wringing it out at the bottom hem. She saw that line of dark hair that ran up from the waist of his pants and cursed at herself for the small heat that shot through her – how could she even think of him that way right now?

"What were you doing out there?" she repeated incredulously. He looked up and grinned ruefully at her. She felt that heat again but pushed it away.

"Well, I gave you my key back a couple of weeks ago, so I couldn't get in," he said rather embarrassedly.

"What?" Rowan asked. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Remus looked at her with equal confusion. "I left it on your table. I even said so. Did you not see it?" he asked with surprise.

Rowan scoured her mind for the memory but couldn't recall him ever saying that. Her table was also covered in books and parchment – she'd probably completely overlooked it.

"I don't remember," she said. "Why would you do that?"

Remus shrugged. "You said it yourself that it wasn't really appropriate for me to be coming and going as I pleased, so I figured it'd be best to give you your key back. Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked anxiously.

Rowan thought back to the past few weeks and realized slowly that he'd always been waiting on her doorstep and not inside like he used to. She remembered vaguely yelling at him for showing up in her flat the afternoon he'd declared his intentions. She hadn't expected him to remember that though – even she had barely remembered saying it. He shivered slightly, and she suddenly realized how cold he must be.

"Come on, let's get inside before you catch a cold," she said, gesturing up the stairs. He nodded and followed.

When they finally pushed into her flat, Remus' teeth were chattering, though Rowan could tell he was trying to fight it. Her chest tightened at the sight of his broad shoulders shivering beneath the clinging material of his shirt. She turned away as she removed her wet socks and shoes, and he followed suit. She thought to herself that under normal circumstances she'd giggle at the strange squishing noises that bounced between them – but then what was _normal_ for them anyway? She sighed quietly and then moved towards her table and scanned over it quickly, finding the offending key on the corner of the surface. How had she missed that? She started gathering her papers neatly to make space at the table, placing her bag down.

"How long were you out there for?" she asked.

Remus joined her at the table. "I don't know – maybe ten, fifteen minutes?" he said vaguely.

Rowan frowned. "Why didn't you just go home? I could've been out for hours!" she said incredulously, looking up at him. He shrugged.

"I've been here everyday for the past three weeks. It'd be weird if I weren't today," he said flippantly. Rowan stared at him with disbelief. She wanted to tell him that was stupid, but she saw the shivering in his shoulders again and realized that he was still very much wet.

"You should take a hot shower and change your clothes," she said sternly. Remus shifted uneasily.

"No, that's unnecessary," he said. "I can just dry them-"

"No," she interrupted, pushing him towards the bathroom before he could protest. "It's my fault you were out there for so long, and if you get sick, I'll be pissed off. I'll put your clothes in the dryer while you're in the shower."

Remus stood in the bathroom, looking somewhat lost for words and gazing at her with furrowed brows. She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch before he surprisingly smirked at her.

"Care to join me?" he asked teasingly.

Rowan felt her face burn and slapped him in the chest before slamming the door shut. She heard him laugh from the other side and her stomach jerked at the sound. It seemed like it'd been ages since she'd heard him laugh so freely. She hated how deeply it resonated within her.

The door then cracked open, and a pile of clothes poked out.

"Thank you," Remus said from the other side. A long scarred arm held them in front of her, and she took them quietly. He closed the door after pulling his arm back, and she wondered if she should be shocked at his sudden modesty.

After putting his clothes into the dryer, Rowan changed her own clothes and then got to clearing off her table. Placing bookmarks in before closing them, she piled her books together neatly and moved them to her bookcase. She took her notes out from her bag – she'd take a break the next day as it was Saturday – and set them on her bedside table, setting her bag out on her windowsill to dry.

The rain was really coming down hard. It clicked and clacked noisily against her window, and she saw a flash of light in the distance followed by a loud clap of thunder a few moments after that resonated through her flat. She heard the muffled rattling of the shower and realized she should cook something, as they most likely wouldn't be going out for dinner in this weather. She began pulling various ingredients from the refrigerator and decided on a stew – it was easy and would go well with the cold rain.

As she began chopping vegetables, her mind started to wander. It'd been so long since she'd associated Remus with the rain. She used to drag him out with her whenever they were graced with a warm storm at Hogwarts, and he'd begrudgingly humor her, watching her with mild amusement as she would take off her socks and shoes to soak her toes in the wet grass. She particularly liked the way the rain fell upon the lake and would pull him to the water's edge to admire it. She smiled despite herself – one of the first times she'd ever spent with him alone was during their Third Year at the lake, nearly seven years ago to the day.

* * *

><p>It was late September, and she'd been dipping her toes into the lake during a slow drizzling rain, savoring the peaceful moment away from her classmates. She had still not quite found her niche – still very awkward with her female peers but not quite in with the boys yet. Her time in the rain was for her and her alone – a divine moment where the grounds were empty and she felt like the school was entirely hers. She needed no friends out there. She giggled to herself as the Giant Squid sucked at her feet with its tentacles as she wriggled them beneath the water. The gray sky melted into the water, and the rain had blurred the lines between the two realms – they seemed to go on and on forever, and she with them. What would happen if she were to throw her shoes into the lake? How far would they fly? She grinned softly to herself.<p>

"What're you doing out here?" a voice called.

Rowan nearly fell into the water with a shocked squeal before steadying herself and turning quickly to see Remus staring at her with confusion. He had been small at that age – an inch shorter than she. His hair clung to his thin face, the scar at his jaw still red and fresh. He'd acquired it at the end of the previous year, which had sparked her sudden interest in his comings and goings. It looked quite large on his small face and bright against his pale skin. She forced her eyes to remain off of it.

Rowan's heart had leapt at the sight of him. She'd never been in his presence alone like this, not without James or Sirius at least. Something about him had always made her nervous - something in his face seemed much too old for a 13 year-old. She'd already had her suspicions regarding his condition at that point but no idea what to do with them. He'd never given her any reason to dislike him, but werewolves were supposed to be frightening, dangerous people. Was it safe to be alone with him like this?

"Oh, h-hi, Remus," she squeaked. She looked at the Giant Squid, as if it could give her some answers. It simply waded in the water, floating just below the surface. "I was just, um, playing with the squid…?" she said weakly. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment – could she be anymore pathetic? What kind of girl at that age plays in the rain alone with giant squids? He probably thought she was the biggest loser at Hogwarts!

But instead of scoff at her, Remus' mouth twisted with confused amusement. "You can do that?" he asked with a hint of awe.

Rowan smiled awkwardly, but she nodded. "Yeah, Derek McKinnon showed me. He's really friendly – the squid, I mean," she said, turning back to her aquatic playmate. The squid slowly raised a few tentacles out of the water wobbly as if waving at the two of them. She smiled at the modest gesture.

Remus grinned. "I had no idea," he said. "Does he have a name?"

Rowan shook her head. "Not as far as I know. I just call him 'Squid.'"

Remus nodded and moved to join her at the edge of the lake, looking out into the gray distance. Rowan turned slightly and eyed him carefully. The scar at his jaw seemed much more pronounced in profile. She could see the lines beneath his eyes, which seemed to age him considerably. She thought to herself that she should probably be afraid of him, but all she could feel was sympathy for her classmate. That cut looked incredibly painful. She'd seen him rubbing it subconsciously during class and at meals and wondered vaguely if there were others like it. Just how deeply did his condition run?

She tore her eyes from his jaw – it'd be terrible for him to catch her staring.

"What're you doing out here by the way?" she asked carefully. Remus turned back and smiled shyly. She felt her own face redden in response and her stomach clenched slightly, though she didn't understand why.

"I saw you from the boys' dorm and I don't know…" he said awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably and red in the face. "I've seen you out here before when it was raining," he said awkwardly.

His robes were completely soaked through now, as were hers. He reached up to wipe his wet hair from his forehead, and she congratulated herself for thinking to braid her hair that day.

Rowan smiled awkwardly. "You think I'm weird, don't you?" she said half-jokingly. Her cheeks reddened again.

He smiled warmly, and her stomach clenched again. "No, I think it's neat," he said genuinely. "It's good to have your quirks. I like sitting in the library alone when everyone else is on the grounds."

Rowan grinned. "Nerd," she teased. He smiled sheepishly.

They stood in silence, staring out at the lake together, before Rowan began to feel awkward again. Remus seemed to feel it as well.

"Should I leave you alone?" he asked carefully. Rowan shook her head.

"No, it's okay," she said, smiling shyly. "It's nice having company out here sometimes." Her face screwed up suddenly. "Just don't tell James or Sirius about this. Stupid James already calls the squid my boyfriend… the dumb wanker."

Remus laughed freely. He suddenly seemed so much younger. Her stomach clenched again in that strange way. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not. His laughter rang through the rain clearly – the first time she'd ever shared a happy moment with him. She'd associate the sound with the rain for a long time after.

"I won't," he promised warmly.

The two spent another hour out by the lake together, sharing small stories and playing with the Giant Squid. She decided after that she quite enjoyed his company and hoped that the next time it rained, he'd come join her again. She wouldn't figure out his secret definitely for another month, but even after her quiet moments of realization in the library and the feelings of horror that came with them, her stomach would still clench strangely at the sight of his gentle smiles. Werewolves were dangerous, but if Remus Lupin was an indication, maybe some of them weren't so bad.

* * *

><p>"Rowan."<p>

Rowan jerked with surprised to see Remus' wet head poking out from the bathroom, smiling amusedly. She felt her face burn with embarrassment at being caught daydreaming, though she wasn't sure why. She frowned slightly as she remembered those first nervous butterflies she'd felt with him all those years ago.

"Are my clothes dry yet?" he asked.

Rowan looked over at the dryer, which was still running. Her frown deepened.

"No," she said ruefully. She moved towards her wardrobe and began rustling through her clothes. "I'm sure I have some of your old shirts and even a pair of sweatpants here though," she said anxiously. She kicked herself for not thinking this through. Obviously his clothes wouldn't be dry by the time he got out of the shower!

Finally, she found an old t-shirt and some sweatpants she'd stolen from his place about two years before. She hurried over to the bathroom and handed them to him. She flashed her a boyish grin and closed the door between them. She sighed and forced herself not to bang her head on the door in frustration.

What was she even doing? She'd been determined not to let him into her life again, and yet she kept allowing him back into her space day after day and was even letting him shower there now. She was even cooking for him! She grimaced. She was self-conscious about her lackluster skills in the kitchen – he was definitely a much better cook – but he'd always insisted that he enjoyed the food she made for him. It was much too intimate. She bit back an angry groan and moved back to the stove where the stew was simmering slowly. There was no point in wasting food now that she'd begun cooking, she supposed.

Finally, Remus emerged from the bathroom with a puff of steam and heat. His skin glowed with the water, shirt clinging to his lean form. She kept her eyes on the pot purposefully, determined not to look at him.

"You're cooking?" Remus asked disbelievingly. He beamed, obviously very pleased, and moved to join her by the stove.

"That looks fantastic," he said happily. She stiffened as his hands grazed over her hips affectionately while moving to grab dishes from the cupboards. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

Rowan shook her head. "No, you can just relax. It's almost done anyway." She needed some space from him. It was beginning to be too much.

She watched the stew finish cooking for another few minutes in silence. He sat at the table and didn't say anything, but she could feel his gaze on her back. Finally, she knew she couldn't drag it out any longer and turned the stove off with a sigh, ladling the stew into their respective bowls. She placed a bread roll on top of each, carrying them to the table.

Rowan thought she might go blind from the brightness of Remus' smile. She suddenly felt incredibly dirty in comparison. He beamed at her like a child on Christmas morning and quickly tucked into his dinner.

They ate quietly and quickly. He scarfed his bowl down before her and pushed his bowl away, patting his stomach with a pleased look on his face.

"Ah, I think I could die happy right now," he said with great satisfaction. Rowan couldn't help the smile that pinched at her mouth. He always knew how worried she was about her cooking, and even if she wasn't sure if he was always telling the truth in his compliments, she still appreciated them. She wouldn't admit it just now though.

Her eyes trailed over the key, which still remained at the corner of her table. Now that she stopped to think about it, every time she'd come home to find him there, he'd been on the steps outside, not in her flat. She'd just assumed that he'd been doing it out of politeness, but this seemed much more significant somehow. She glanced at him hesitantly from the corner of her eye. He was watching the rain outside with a pensive expression, teeth worrying his bottom lip. She noted how prominent the scar along his jaw remained, even after so many years, and yet it seemed like an integral part of him now despite how strange and frightening it had been on his small face as a boy. It was pale and thinner now and had stretched longer as he'd grown. It seemed to highlight the sharp line of his jaw almost masculinely. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"Why did you give me my key back?" she asked.

Remus looked at her with a confused look. "Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked warily.

Rowan thought for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "Honestly, I just wanted you to stop showing up in my flat unannounced. It's frightening coming home to find someone there when you're not expecting it."

Remus smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I supposed you're right," he said. He looked at her thoughtfully. "So are you saying I should keep it?" he asked carefully.

Rowan looked down at her now empty bowl. "I don't know," she said quietly.

Did she want him to keep it? She knew the answer should be no, but after seeing him looking so pathetic in the rain, she almost felt like she should give it back. It didn't seem like he was going to give this act up anytime in the immediate future, even if it wouldn't last in the long run, and she didn't want him waiting around in rain and snow for her to come home. Would he take her refusal as discouragement and give up? Shouldn't she want that?

"How about you think on it for now, and we can talk about it later?" Remus suggested. Rowan looked up at him and saw him smiling gently at her. "I know this is still difficult for you to wrap your head around. Take your time. You can give it back to me when you're ready."

Rowan's chest tightened. His expression was so warm. Her wet hair suddenly felt very cold against her skin.

"Okay," she said quietly. She offered a shy smile in return, and his eyes flickered with a low heat. Her chest tightened again. "But next time it's raining like this or it's snowing or something, you should just go home," she scolded.

Remus smiled. "I'll consider it," he said vaguely.

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening passed quietly but warmly. Remus let Rowan continue some reading she'd started the night before, and he rotated between going over his own work notes and doodling little sketches of her. He left the small drawings on her table after, which she'd find later with a small smile.<p>

Finally, night fell upon them, and Remus got up to leave. He surprised her by going back into the bathroom to change – he hadn't done that since they were sixteen.

"Are you sure you don't want to wear these home?" Rowan asked skeptically, gesturing to the t-shirt and sweatpants that he'd handed back to her.

Remus smiled. "No, it's okay. I imagine I might need them another time here anyway," he said. "If you'll let me, of course," he added quickly.

Rowan didn't respond but stared at the clothing in her hands, thinking hard. After a moment, she turned and placed them back in her wardrobe, shutting the drawer quietly. When she turned back around, Remus was gazing at her so intently, so warmly, that she thought her chest might burst.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," he said. He looked at her hesitantly. "Do you want to go to the beach for the day? I was thinking that it'd be fun to get out while the weather is still kind of warm."

Rowan thought back to her memories of them by the lake at Hogwarts together and wondered if the rain had reminded Remus of those times as well. She smiled shyly.

"Okay," she said.

Remus' face broke out into a happy grin. She was sure her heart could be heard beating against her ribcage.

Before she could say anything else though, he was reaching forward to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, effectively silencing her. His eyes darted down towards her mouth, declaring his intent. She knew he was giving her the opportunity to push him away, but she couldn't find her voice or her hands. He was then leaning forward slowly, and her breath seemed to catch in her chest. Everything in her ached.

His lips grazed hers so softly that she hesitated to call it a kiss. It was like a whisper of lips, a silent promise though she couldn't be sure of what. He didn't push forward, but held her face ever so gently that even her cheek silently asked for more.

And then his touch was gone, and she opened her eyes – she didn't know when she'd closed them – to see him gazing at her so heatedly that she thought she might burst into flames.

"Goodnight then," he said quietly. Rowan exhaled slowly a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Goodnight," she breathed back.

Remus smiled again – a quiet twitch of his mouth – and then he was gone, closing the door behind him quietly. The silence of the room suddenly felt very chaotic, and Rowan felt lost within it. How had all of this happened? She couldn't even be angry with herself. She had simply been overtaken, overwhelmed. He'd completely overpowered her, but she wasn't sure how - he'd given her every opportunity to deny him. His hold over her remained incredibly frightening.

Her fingers rose to her lips, but she didn't dare touch them. She felt as if he'd bestowed a wish upon her, and she was afraid to brush it away. It was silly really, but there it was.

Three weeks in, and she already felt lost. She couldn't find it in herself to feel upset, just dazed and confused. This man was too much.

She headed to bed early. Perhaps a full night of sleep would help her think better in the morning.


	41. Of the White Seams of Scars

**A/N**: A little sadness and then a little understanding? The next is happier.

**nessafly:** Ahahahahahahahahahaha... ahaha. hah.

Your review might be my favorite of all time, just because it's so long and silly. I did wonder where you'd gone [and admittedly was a bit lonely T-T], but I figured you were busy. There are definitely other stories to read and things to do besides humor me with this silly thing, but I'm SUPER HAPPY you're back! ^^

That being said, I totally get what you're saying about your frustrations, and I'm sorry I'm making you so angry with Remus... This story is much darker than the last and the next _will _be lighter, but it definitely is necessary, like you said. Not to give spoilers, but I see this as kind of a dark transition or set up for all the cool shit that happens with Harry. It's like they have to suffer now to develop into the people they need to be when the real star shows up so they can support him best. And _yes,_ I agree that he hasn't understood fully, and I am cruel and terrible and will be bringing more angst in as a result of that. But there will be some fluff and happiness along the way...?

But THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for coming back, even if you're totally hating Remus right now! [Is it weird that I'm super proud of myself for making the readers like my OC more than the character they came here for?] I'm so happy you're back, and I hope you like the next few chapters a little more.

**missalex3030:** Thank you, thank you! I was quite proud of that one haha. And they're on their way... slowly...

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Thank you always! ^^

**casualmoose:** Hahaha thank you! I find it very interesting how people's opinions on the Remus x Rowan relationship have changed. I hope Remus can eventually convince you too.

**lovirosa:** Once again, you are spot on. I don't think Remus has done anything yet to win Rowan back, and you've predicted where I'll be going with this.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW! YES, YOU!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 41: Of the White Seams of Scars<strong>

The rest of September passed quietly, and October was soon upon them with a light chill. It was October 2nd – exactly one year had passed since Dorcas Meadowes, Edgar, and Wisteria Bones had died, and the Order decided to pay their respects to their fallen comrades' graves together.

As Rowan pulled her black robes on again, she assessed her scarred arm in the mirror. She remembered the raw redness and bloody bandages that had wrapped her skin just a year before, and though the pain was gone, she could nearly feel the burning there just from the memories that the sight of the milky markings evoked. The scars still snaked up the back of her neck from the collar of her blouse and were certainly visible when she wore short-sleeved shirts, but she no longer felt as compelled to hide them from the cautious stares of passerby. She couldn't say that she felt proud or even at ease with them yet, but she was slightly comforted with the knowledge that, one day, she would.

Remus was waiting on her doorstep when she stepped out of her building with a handful of flowers for their friends' respective graves. He smiled encouragingly at her as he took her hand, and though she wanted to feel the bond between them as they shared these sad memories with each other, she couldn't help but also remember the darkness that had enveloped them both after their friends' passing. She couldn't help but wonder when it would return.

When they arrived at the cemetery, they found that they were amongst the first few. Rowan had insisted that they come early – she wanted to pay her respects to their fallen comrades in privacy first. Remus nodded at her quietly and handed her the flowers, gazing after her as she walked into the cemetery alone. Remus stayed behind with Kingsley and the Prewett brothers at the entrance.

Rowan stopped to see Dorcas first. She was buried apart from the Boneses beside her late parents. Rowan laid a bouquet down on her grave and quietly said hello. She hadn't been close to the older woman, but she'd been very fond of her. She had been the one to recruit Lily to St. Mungo's and had been a brilliant Healer in her own right with an excellent sense of humor. Lily had been quite devastated at her loss, and Rowan mourned that she'd never have the opportunity to know her better. She tried desperately to push the memories of the courageous woman's body illuminated with green light from her mind. She remembered the older woman's jovial laugh and the fluidity of her movement in battle and hoped that she laughed just as much on the far plane.

As she next searched for Edgar and Wisteria's graves, she felt her chest tighten painfully. It was a chilly morning – it seemed as if the earth was whispering reminders of their cold night in the woods – and Rowan's lungs stung with the frost. The Bones family had a large private section of the cemetery for their late members. Various grand tombstones and sculptures decorated the area, like a forest of gray stone. The cold faces of the statues around her only seemed to emphasize the chill in her muscles, and the sight of a particularly large mausoleum made her feel incredibly miniscule. Her arm stung bitterly, and as she found the names of Edgar and Wisteria carved into a pair of large stone tombstones, her eyes burned.

"Hi, Edgar," she whispered, kneeling slowly to the cold ground. "It's been a while."

Her voice trembled, and the tears threatened to fall. She reached up quickly to wipe them away. She remembered the man's loud laughter and his wife's demure smiles. He'd always been fearless, even in his last moments in those dark woods. She could still hear her harsh breathing, the burning in her lungs, as she'd run through the darkness with the couple. She could still see the green flames as they overtook her, the way her body had slammed and crunched into the earth. She bowed her head and tried desperately to balance her lungs.

"Rowan?"

Rowan looked up suddenly to see a tall, thin older woman with dark hair in a tight bun. She held the small hand of a little girl, maybe five years old, and her other arm held a sleeping toddler, perhaps three. Heat shot through her limbs as she swallowed down her grief.

"Amelia!" she greeted softly, scrambling to her feet quickly to greet her.

Amelia Bones, Edgar's younger sister, had always been a silent member of the Order. She didn't participate in missions or meetings, but she'd always been a great supporter of Dumbledore and a dear friend to her father. She was quickly rising through the ranks of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry, and she frequently passed critical information on to Dumbledore from the Ministry. She had also recently filled her late brother's position on the Wizengamot, which had been greatly advantageous in securing convictions for the Death Eaters they brought in – she was hoping the older woman's voice would sway the rest of her peers in regards to Igor Karkaroff. Rowan had nothing but the greatest respect for her. The older witch smiled graciously and let go of the little girl's hand to hug Rowan.

"Rowan, it is so good to see you," she greeted warmly. She took the little girl's hand again and gestured to her. "Beatrice, this is Rowan. She was a friend of Mummy and Daddy," she said gently.

The little girl had long brown curly hair and looked very much like Wisteria with large pale eyes. She clung to Amelia's leg shyly but assessed Rowan openly.

"Hi, Beatrice," she said warmly, kneeling down to be level with the small girl. "You've gotten so big. You were still really little when I last saw you."

Beatrice continued to stare at Rowan warily, clinging to her aunt's leg. Rowan smiled again, and the little girl gave a very shy smile back but didn't respond. She was suddenly reminded of Percy Weasley, who was about the same age. Rowan gazed at her warmly and stood back up.

"How have you been?" she asked Amelia. "I hear you're up for the next Head of the M.L.E. Department if Crouch gets Minister of Magic. Congratulations," she said sincerely. Amelia smiled graciously.

"Thank you very much," she responded. Her face fell slightly with frustration. "I don't know if that's going to happen anytime soon though with the way things are going."

Rowan frowned with concern. "You mean the fugitive murders?" she asked quietly. Amelia nodded gravely.

The big news in _The Daily Prophet_ from the past couple of weeks had been about a string of deaths amongst the prisoner Death Eaters, particularly those who had struck deals with the Ministry. They'd been posed as suicides, but the M.O. and victim profiles were too consistent to be a mass suicide. Mina, Alice and Moody had been looking into it, but they'd been coming up dry so far.

"I'm sure that's making prisoner cooperation very difficult," Rowan said sullenly. She thought of Karkaroff, heat rising up her neck with anger. Amelia seemed to read her face and grimaced.

"Yes, all of the Death Eaters who had been talking have completely stopped. Someone is obviously trying to keep them quiet," she said.

"Well, I'm sure if anyone can figure it out, it's you," Rowan said encouragingly. Amelia smiled thinly then looked down quickly to see Beatrice tugging on her pant leg with an urgent face.

"Ah, yes, okay, let's see Mummy and Daddy," she said softly, smiling gently down at the little girl. She looked back up at Rowan. "I suppose it's time to pay our respects," she said.

Rowan smiled sadly. "Yes, of course. I'll give you some privacy. Good luck with the case at work," she said, stepping aside. Amelia nodded.

"Thank you – for everything you've done for our family really. Please tell your mother to drop by for tea sometime. I miss her company," she said warmly. Rowan nodded and smiled before turning on her heel and walking out of the stony labyrinth. The air seemed a little less cold.

* * *

><p>Rowan found her friends quickly after her quiet conversation with Amelia and Edgar's children. They spent the next hour or so paying their respects to their friends, and Rowan appreciated the coolness of the October morning sun. Remus held a firm grasp on Rowan's hand, rough fingers laced between hers, and she couldn't find it in herself to pull away. As she stole a glance at his face, she could see the deeply troubled look there and realized that this was just as difficult for him as it was for her – it might have been a year since she had acquired those injuries, but he'd been the one to watch her burn. She remembered the way he'd cried and clutched her fingers when she'd come to in the hospital and the frightening darkness that had overtaken him in the aftermath. She wanted to resent him for the way he'd left her after, but in the presence of her friends' final resting places, she couldn't find it in her. She squeezed his hand back.<p>

After, a portion of the party decided to sit down at the Leaky Cauldron together for lunch and drinks to celebrate their late friends' lives, which Rowan found was a wonderful way to end such a solemn morning. They sat around in the private parlor sharing happy memories and catching up with one another, basking in each other's warm presence. Lily told everyone the funny story of how Dorcas had personally cornered her at a Seventh Year recruiting event to convince her to train as a Healer after hearing about her from Dumbledore, and Gideon and Fabian shared silly tales of their pranks on Edgar and Wisteria when they'd first begun dating during their Hogwarts days. They toasted to their friends' memories with lighter hearts than they'd had at the beginning of the day, and Rowan felt slightly hopeful.

Towards the end of lunch, Rowan excused herself to use the toilet. Despite the lightness of the group's conversation, she still felt a heavy sadness in her stomach as she thought of how little she'd really known Dorcas or the Boneses. Her time with them had been short, to say the least, almost dismal. It was painful to think of how briefly her life touched those of her friends.

"Oof!" a voice squeaked.

Rowan ran into a sturdy form and staggered, grunting ungracefully as her forehead slammed into someone else's. Both groaned in pain, and she rubbed her forehead and panicked.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry! I wasn't lo-," she started and then looked up to see Peter Pettigrew's watery eyes wide and staring at her, face pale and startled. There was a slightly pink spot on his forehead from where they'd slammed into each other.

"Peter! I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz," she laughed ruefully, rubbing her forehead. "Are you okay?"

Peter stared for another moment before seemingly snapping from a trance. "Oh, R-Rowan! Sorry, I wasn't paying attention! I'm so sorry! So sorry! Did I hurt you?" he blurted nervously.

Rowan laughed. "I'm fine, Pete. Sorry for assaulting your face. My forehead is just too damn big," she said jokingly.

She assessed him for a moment. She realized suddenly that she hadn't really seen him at all over the past couple of months. His presence at Order meetings had been sparse, but James had said his mother had been ill. As she looked him over, she thought that he looked quite unwell also – he was looking much thinner, but not like a man who had been eating healthier or exercising. His skin was slightly sallower, his face a little gaunt. There were very dark rings beneath his eyes, and the nervousness she usually associated with him seemed tenfold.

"How have you been?" she asked concernedly. His eyes widened, mouth open slightly. She thought he looked very much like a cornered mouse. "I heard your mum's sick. I hope she's doing all right," she elaborated.

Peter let out a shrill, unnatural sounding laugh. Rowan tried hard not to flinch at the sound. She kept her face as straight as possible, an awkward smile on her face – she wasn't sure what the appropriate expression was in response.

"Yeah, she's fine!" he said shrilly. He cleared his throat. "She's fine," he said again, a little more normally. He breathed deeply. "She has, um, rheumatoid arthritis. It's been acting up a lot recently, so I've been spending a lot of time at home with her," he explained quickly. He gave her another nervous smile – a strange twitch of the mouth.

Rowan nodded slowly, taking in the sudden verbal barrage calmly. She hadn't seen him so nervous in ages. Over the past couple of years since graduating, she'd thought their relationship had relaxed significantly, so his sudden nervousness in her presence again gave her pause. What had changed suddenly?

"I see," she said carefully. His eyes darted around her face shiftily, but not actually at it. She tried to not let it bother her. "Well, if you and your mum need anything, please let me know. I know a potion or two that are supposed to help a lot with the joint swelling from rheumatism, so I can brew you up a batch, no problem," she offered warmly.

Peter's eyes shot back to hers, and she was shocked to see him looking intensely at her, like he could cry at any moment. He grabbed her hands quickly and gazed at her in the same way he had when he'd first seen her and Remus together again. She felt her face burn with embarrassment.

"Thank you, Winnie," he said softly, sincerely, as if he were pouring all of his heart into those simple three words. She felt her throat constrict and was shocked to identify the feeling as pity. Why though?

"Of course," she said quietly. He held her hands tightly for a second longer then let go and quickly excused himself without another word shared between them, scurrying back to the table. She stared after him, dumbstruck and lost. What had just happened?

* * *

><p>After lunch, Rowan and Remus waved goodbye to their friends and headed back to her flat. It felt like it had been a long day already, despite being quite early in the afternoon, and Rowan just wanted to peel her robes off and curl into bed. They strolled down her street quietly. He hadn't reached out to touch her again, and she held her hands in her pockets. She wasn't sure if it was to prevent him or her from doing something uncomfortable.<p>

When they reached her door, she half-expected him to kiss her on the cheek and say goodbye, but he made no indication that he had any intention of leaving. She turned back to the door awkwardly and pushed inside. He followed quietly.

When they entered her flat, she quietly took her socks and shoes off and shiftily looked around for some sign of what she was supposed to do. He slowly removed his own shoes without saying anything, and she slowly hung up her coat in her closet. She wanted to change her clothes but didn't know if she should just strip in front of him or go into the bathroom to change. Frustration sparked in her chest.

"Winnie, your gears are showing."

She looked up quickly to see him gazing at her with mild amusement. He stood right beside her – how had he snuck up on her so quietly without her noticing? She felt her face screw up with a strange mixture of confusion and amusement – he smiled – and decided on honesty.

"I was trying to figure out how to change my clothes," she admitted sheepishly, face burning. Remus' smile melted into something gentler with an indiscernible flare in his eyes.

"May I…?" he asked quietly, gesturing to her blouse.

Rowan's eyes widened with shock. She knew she should be offended, but there was no lust, no hunger in his face. His expression remained gentle, unassuming. Her confusion doubled.

"I won't try anything. I promise," he added. "I just… need to see something."

Rowan gazed at him for a moment and saw his face soften – sadness. She suddenly understood with a tight constriction of her lungs. She nodded almost unnoticeably and lifted her arms hesitantly. His fingers grasped the hem of her black blouse and gently pulled upward.

The cool air hit her skin like a deep breath. Her hair fell about her in a dark wave as the material moved over her head slowly. She shivered lightly and nervously raised her eyes to meet Remus'; however, she saw that he seemed completely unaware of her nakedness – his gaze had already fallen upon her right shoulder with pained eyes. She smiled sadly and realized that perhaps she hadn't been the only one left with scars that terrible night. Her stomach clenched, and she pulled her courage forward. She turned slowly to present her marred skin to him, his eyes crinkling with guilt. She kept her gaze downward and swept her hair over her left shoulder so that he could see the full extent of her wounds.

For a moment, all that touched her was the heat that gathered between them. Then she felt him raise his hand hesitantly to her shoulder, and when she didn't pull away, callused fingers whispered against her skin. She suppressed the shiver that threatened to vibrate up her spine. She could nearly feel his guilt wash over her back with his nervous fingers. She realized slowly that, while he'd seen her bare on several occasions since she'd been injured, he'd never been able to truly assess the damage that had been done. Had it been haunting him all this time?

His fingers traced over the thin seams of her scars, along her shoulder blade and up to her neck. She felt him linger upon the spots with the worst damage where the scar tissue was thickest, and she noted that her breath was terribly shallow.

Suddenly, his hands settled firmly on her arms, and her stomach clenched at the feeling of him leaning against her, forehead pressing into her shoulder. She staggered slightly under his weight, but he didn't let go, and she didn't push him off. She felt his ragged breath at her back and allowed him a moment of silence. She wondered sadly for what he was mourning.

Finally, he pulled away, and her shoulder ached strangely without his weight. But he began to turn her slowly so that she faced him. She felt her face burn slightly at her nakedness and kept her gaze on his chest. He'd taken the dark jacket of his suit off and wore only his pants and a crisp white shirt. She'd always loved the way he looked in white. It reminded her of clean sheets and bright mornings.

"Thank you," he said quietly, smiling gently. She searched his face – for what, she didn't know. His eyes scanned over her features slowly with an endearingly crooked expression. But then he let go of her and averted his gaze awkwardly.

"I should… You should change. I need to use the toilet anyway," he said uncomfortably, gesturing towards the bathroom. Rowan felt her face redden and turned away.

"Yeah, um… yes, I'll do that," she said awkwardly.

She heard the door of her bathroom close quietly, and she let out a long breath, the muscles in her back suddenly relaxing. She pulled a clean shirt over her head and quickly pulled her stockings and skirt off, throwing them into her hamper with her blouse. She changed into sweatpants in nearly record time, and by the time he poked his head out again, she was sitting on her bed in what she hoped looked like a nonchalant position despite feeling anything but.

Remus smiled somewhat amusedly, obviously aware of how strange of a situation they were in, and she smiled sheepishly back. The sudden shift made her relax back into her skin. They shared a soft laugh, and he sat down on the bed with her. He'd rolled up his sleeves so that his sinewy forearms were exposed, and she secretly admired the lean muscles and tendons that extended into his long fingers.

"I realized recently that we never really talked about, well, everything that happened between us… a year ago, I mean," he said slowly. Rowan nodded, her throat tightening nervously.

"I... well, I'm not really sure how to start," he said sheepishly, hands gripping his knees. "But I know that if I'm going to earn your trust back, we should probably be on the same page."

Rowan nodded again and watched the small gesture. The muscles in his arms flexed and slackened rhythmically. She remembered the way she used to spend hours in bed with him, trying to memorize all the subtle ways his body moved. A dull pain rang through her chest.

Though he'd been wonderfully attentive and patient with her for the past two months, she still was waiting for something terrible to happen that would spark his anguish again and cause him to leave her. She didn't even feel comfortable using conditions like "if," but rather continued to think of their situation as a long "when": _when_ he left her; _when_ he withdrew again. She didn't voice her negative thoughts to him out of consideration for his feelings, but it didn't change the way she felt.

But she humored him all the same. After all, it might help for her to receive some closure before he left her again.

"I should apologize first, I suppose," he started slowly. He kept his gaze downward, a sad smile on his lips. "I'm sorry for the way I left things between us. You at least deserved an explanation."

Rowan felt his words bounce between them as she remembered the fury in his eyes as he'd looked at her all those months ago. She suppressed the shiver that threatened to creep up her spine at the memory – she was still frightened at the mental image.

He had been a mess of anger and chaos. She'd seemingly lost him, and then he'd simply reappeared without explanation, as if the dark presence she'd seen walking in his skin had never existed. As she looked at him now, she could barely even remember what that man had looked like, and yet the memory still sent ice through her limbs.

"I was afraid of you," she admitted quietly. Remus didn't look up, but she saw his grip on his knees tighten with shame. "You were so frightening. It was like you were a completely different person." She felt her own hands tremble slightly. She worked up her courage and pushed her gaze upward to his face. He didn't meet it.

"What happened back then?" she asked.

Remus exhaled slowly. She could see his mouth twitch as he thought. His expression, though hard, was still so kind. Was that frightening man still in there? Was it right to be afraid of him when she, too, had probably looked the same just a few weeks ago?

"I don't really know, to be honest," he said quietly. He frowned, seemingly upset with his own answer. "Before you woke, the Order had discussed the possibility of there being a traitor. And then when I saw your arm, I-"

He seemed to choke on his own words, and before Rowan could stop herself, she'd reached forward to grasp his hand gently. His eyes shot up to her face with startled eyes. She was nearly as surprised at her own behavior as he, but she kept her hold on him. His lips quivered.

"I think I understand," she said gently. His eyes blazed. "After all that's happened recently..." She paused. The dull memory of her fury lingered in her belly. Then a small wash of guilt - he'd been all alone. How tiring and lonely it must have been.

"I understand it now," she said firmly.

Remus seemed to swell like a tide. His gaze was so heated that she felt her face burn slightly. He took her hand in his and squeezed back.

"I snapped out of it because of you though," he said fervently. Rowan felt her stomach churn. "When I saw you at St. Mungo's after my mum… after she collapsed… It was like waking up from a long dream."

Rowan remembered her grief-filled trance after Leanna had collapsed. She recalled the startled look on Remus' face when she'd appeared at his bedroom door the day after and the way he'd held her so tightly as they'd both cried. Her chest tightened painfully at the memory.

"Why didn't you try to reconcile with me then?" she asked, almost bitterly. She probably would have taken him back more readily back then. Perhaps they wouldn't have had to go through this year with so much loneliness.

Wouldn't he have just left her again at some other point though?

"Honestly, I can't even tell you what I was thinking back then anymore," he admitted ruefully with a weak shrug. "It's mostly a blur – that entire month... After my mum died, I realized how stupid I'd been, but I figured that I'd hurt you enough already. I didn't feel like I had the right to even _consider_ asking you to take me back. And then the longer I waited, the guiltier I felt until eventually it didn't even feel like an option."

"That's stupid," she retorted sullenly. He smiled weakly.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

He squeezed her hand again, and she had to bite back the stinging at her eyes. She felt his hand trail up her arm hesitantly.

"I won't do it again. The next time I fuck up or things start getting hard, I promise I won't run," he said. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling in towards him. She wanted to fight him, a small surge of bitterness pacing through her, but she couldn't find it in herself.

"I know you still don't believe me," he said contritely, "but I mean it. And I'll convince you of it one of these days."

She felt his mouth press against her temple warmly. She didn't turn to embrace him back, but she didn't push him away either. She simply let his words wash over her slowly. She could feel the smallest of smiles on his lips and his grip on her tightened minutely. He sighed into her hair, and she closed her eyes. She tried desperately to believe him.


	42. Of Red October Afternoons

**A/N**: I just realized I totally fucked up the timeline, and I'm super pissed at myself for it. Harry should have been born by now, but I somehow put an extra year in there while plotting the story out chronologically, so as a result, Harry will only be a few months old when he becomes the Boy Who Lived instead of a year and three months. Sorry if that bothers you, but there's no way I'm going back and rewriting this, despite how much it destroys my canon OCD.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 42: Of Red October Afternoons<strong>

September passed into October quietly, and the weather began to cool into a comfortable chill. Remus and Rowan continued their strange routine of quiet company, and though a part of Rowan felt some consolation after their frank conversation at the beginning of the month, she found that her walls still remained up. She still caught herself looking at him sometimes, half-expecting him to withdraw into himself again, but then he'd look up and smile questioningly at her, and the moment would pass.

Evan Rosier's face still appeared at times in her dreams, taunting her with her weaknesses and her master's death. Sometimes it was just his voice. Sometimes it was the feeling of his tongue scalding up her cheek. She'd wake in a cold sweat with terror in her blood and frantically look around for Remus only to find her bed empty. She'd never admit to him how, even a year after they'd broken up, she still expected to see him asleep next to her, and the sharp reminder of their previous separation made her quite bitter – she knew she still wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

Still, most evenings were spent with him happily, if quietly, and though she knew he'd eventually leave her again, she decided to make the best of it for the time being. He had begun holding her hand again on their weekend afternoons out, but after that night in the rain, he hadn't kissed her again, and she was grateful for it. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep her wits together if he tried to push for more.

Halloween was upon them quickly, and the Weasleys invited all of their friends to the Burrow for a party, mostly for the children's enjoyment. Rowan hadn't seen the Weasley children in a few months, and they were all very pleased to see her, particularly the young twins Fred and George who were a year and a half old now. The two were already quite the mayhem-makers – Molly was looking more and more haggard from chasing after them as they grew. Rowan offered to watch over them for the afternoon.

"I never thought having newborns would be easier than toddlers. I'm terrified of what I'll do when they begin to run!" she exclaimed exasperatedly after catching them crawling onto the kitchen table for their mother's wand. Rowan laughed and hauled the two up into her arms to give their mother a slight reprieve.

Charlie, the adventurous 8 year-old, was quite fond of Rowan, as was Billy, who was 10, but she could never get Percy to warm up to her in the same way. He was very taken with Lily though, which Rowan thought was somehow fitting. The 4 year-old had quite the old soul and seemed more interested in books than playing with his brothers. Rowan could already tell he'd be a candidate for Prefect in his Hogwarts years, as would Billy, who was possibly the most precocious and mild-mannered boy she'd ever met, after Remus. She smiled despite herself at the thought.

Rowan, Sirius, and James sat outside in the yard with the boys carving pumpkins, except for Percy, who had opted to stay inside with Lily to read. Mina, who wasn't particularly good with kids, volunteered to help Molly in the kitchen, and Rowan wasn't quite sure where Remus was. He'd disappeared with Arthur as soon as they'd arrived – the older man had no doubt wanted to show Remus whatever new Muggle contraption he'd acquired, as Remus was one of the only people in their circle of friends who was both familiar with Muggle life and patient enough to hear Arthur out. She just hoped it didn't end poorly like the last time when she'd had to pull glass from Remus' arms after Arthur had blown up a television by plugging it into some large, strange buzzing device. He'd called it a "genator" or "jenrate" or something like that.

"Rowan, look!" Charlie cried out.

Rowan glanced up from the large blanket in the grass where she sat with the twins to see Charlie laughing madly at Sirius, who had placed an enormous, emptied out pumpkin on his head. He waved his arms in a silly fashion, obviously blinded by the thick plant on his face, which delighted the young boy. She laughed along with him as Sirius pulled the pumpkin from his head with a grin. Bits of seeds stuck messily in his hair and to his cheeks. Mina wouldn't be pleased.

"What're you planning on carving, Charlie?" she asked. She saw Fred reaching for a pumpkin-carving tool that had dropped off of the table and flicked her wand at it so that it shot back up and out of his reach. The toddler turned and seemed to glare at her. She grinned cheekily at him.

"A dragon!" Charlie shouted, waving his arms wildly and roaring loudly. Bill looked up from his pumpkin with a sort of exasperated expression. Sirius laughed and set the drawing tools in front of the boy.

"What about you, Bill?" she asked the older boy.

"An acromantula," he responded smartly, continuing to carve out pieces of his pumpkin.

Sirius frowned. "That's a bit dark, isn't it?" he said warily. He eyed the boy with an apprehensive look, but Bill just continued on, either not noticing or not caring. Rowan amusedly thought again how similar Bill was to Remus – he'd already mastered ignoring Sirius as well. James sat next to the boy with his own pumpkin, hacking away at it with his wand with bits of seeds and fruit flying. Rowan thought to herself that James needed more supervision than the boys.

"And what're _you_ carving, ickle Jamiekins?" Sirius asked saccharinely.

James shot him a glare but then announced proudly, "A lion!"

Rowan eyed him with exasperation. "How many times have I told you – you're supposed to empty the pumpkin out first!" she scolded.

James glared at her as well. "Says the girl whose pumpkins always end up looking like melted garden gnomes," he retorted.

Rowan glared and grabbed a small bit of discarded pumpkin pulp from the grass, throwing it at James' head, which splattered against the side of his face with a sickening squish. Charlie, Sirius, and Bill all burst into laughter as James blinked dumbstruck and reached up slowly to wipe the goop that was now plastered to his glasses. He glared at Rowan and reached a hand into the bottom of his pumpkin, scooping out an overflowing handful of pulp and chucking it at her.

Luckily, she anticipated his move and quickly shouted, "_Protego!" _just as the pulp left his hands. An invisible shield spread in front of her and the twins, and the pulp ricocheted chaotically, spraying the table with pulp and seed. Sirius squealed in a womanly fashion and Charlie shouted with glee as he was hit was a barrage of fruit matter. Bill, seemingly on the same wavelength as Rowan, ducked behind James just as he saw her pull her wand out, allowing the man to take the blow for him. He, Rowan, and the twins laughed madly as they watched the other three scrape pulp from their clothes and faces.

"_Row!" _Fred and George shouted in unison, flailing their arms victoriously. Rowan grinned and tickled the two boys.

"Yes, Rowan wins!" she cheered. They shrieked gleefully and clapped their chubby hands, dancing in place with clumsy feet. James and Sirius groaned.

As the men wiped themselves off, vanishing away bits of pumpkin guts, Charlie sat back down at the table, apparently unperturbed by the mess and pulp that still stuck to his hair and clothes.

"Sirius, do you know how to draw a dragon?" Charlie asked. His brows were furrowed with frustration. Red crayon was scribbled messily all over his pumpkin with no discernible dragon to be seen. Sirius peeled a long string of pulp from his hair and then frowned.

"Err, no, I'm afraid I'm not very good with that sort of thing," he said guiltily, flicking the pumpkin bits away.

"Can you at least try?" Charlie asked hopefully, holding the crayon up. Sirius took it from him apprehensively and stared down at the pumpkin with deep concentration. He set the crayon down on the pumpkin's surface but didn't move. Rowan thought he looked quite constipated.

"Almost done?" a voice called out.

Sirius' head jerked up and he beamed. "Moony! You can draw a dragon, right?"

Rowan looked up to see Remus standing next to the table by Charlie and Sirius looking quite amused at the mess. He glanced over at her with a gentle smile before turning back to the pumpkin at hand.

"I can give it a go," he said, taking the crayon from Sirius' hand. "Do you want just the face or the whole thing?" he asked Charlie.

"The face with big teeth! I want it to look like it's breathing fire when we put the candle in!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. Remus grinned and set into his work.

Rowan watched as he scrubbed the preexisting scribbles on the pumpkin then began with long, graceful strokes over the surface. Charlie's face seemed to melt happily, eyes shining with excitement as he watched Remus sketch out his beloved dragon.

"Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Remus!" he cried out as Remus handed the pumpkin back to him. Remus smiled and patted him on the shoulder as he started grabbing for the carving utensils. Sirius muttered something under his breath that sounded like, "I could do it too…"

Remus moved towards the blanket and sat down next to Rowan. He grinned roguishly at her, and her chest tightened.

"You've got something here," he said, reaching forward and pulling a piece of pulp from her hair. "Did you guys blow up an entire pumpkin or something?" She grinned.

"James tried to pick a fight that he couldn't win," she said cheekily. James glared and pouted but sullenly turned back to hacking away at his pumpkin, obviously defeated. She snickered and then turned back to the toddlers.

Fred was gazing intently into the hole at the bottom of the pumpkin that Sirius had worn on his face earlier while George had waddled over to her as soon as he'd seen Remus arrive. He clung to her chest and seemed to glare at Remus.

"Row is!" he blurted. Remus frowned.

"Seems like I have competition," he said, eyeing the toddler, who had buried his face in Rowan's shoulder. She smiled and gently pulled a few bits of orange goo from his hair and the sleeves of his shirt.

"He's just getting cranky. I think it's time for their nap," she said chidingly. George shook his head and mumbled something incoherent. She smiled and glanced over at Fred. He had somehow passed out sitting up with his cheek mashed into the side of the pumpkin. She sighed.

"Yep, I should take them inside. It'll be easier to clean them up now while they're incoherent," she said. "Come on, Georgie. Let's go see Mummy," she cooed, pulling George into her arms and slowly moving to her feet. He shook his head again but didn't protest, leaning his head into her chest. She smiled, a wave of affectionate warmth spreading through her.

"Can you get Freddy for me?" she said, gesturing down to the other toddler. Remus was gazing at her with an intense look but seemed to snap from a strange trance. He quickly looked over to the other boy. Holding his head gently, he pulled the pumpkin from his grasp and then scooped him up. The boy looked even smaller in Remus' long arms. Rowan watched the gentle look on his face and felt her chest constrict painfully. She looked away quickly and started towards the house before her mind got the best of her again.

"Bring me a butterbeer when you come back, will you?" Sirius shouted after them.

"Me too!" James called. Rowan waved an arm back.

* * *

><p>When they reached the kitchen, Rowan was surprised to see Arthur, not Molly, standing in front of the oven with a frilly red apron and oven mitts on. The entire scene looked quite silly, especially with the red of the apron clashing with his ginger hair. She looked around to see that he was the only one there.<p>

"That's a good look for you, Artie," she teased. Remus snickered. The older man looked up, surprised, and then looked down at his apron and grinned, blushing slightly.

"Perhaps I'll start wearing it on missions then," he joked. "I've been told red is my color." Rowan grinned.

"Where is Molly?" she asked curiously. Arthur smiled stiffly – was he nervous?

"Ah, I'm letting her take a load off her feet – figured she'd been up and about enough recently with the twins, eh?" he said. Rowan nodded but eyed him carefully. He seemed sort of off.

"Looks like you did a good job of tuckering them out," he continued amusedly, gesturing towards the toddlers. "Here, let me take them." He held her arms out for George.

"No, it's okay, Arthur. You've got enough on your hands, and they're covered in pulp right now. We can take them upstairs and clean them up," Rowan said.

Arthur smiled gratefully. "Ah, thank you, Winnie. You're fantastic," he said. "Well, all the wipes and diapers should be upstairs in the nursery. You don't need to change their clothes – they'll just get them dirty again anyway. I think Lily is up there with Percy right now. He'll probably need to go down for a nap too."

The two headed out of the kitchen, running into Mina, who was coming back in from setting out some food in the living room for their friends. She smirked at the bits of seeds and pulp that covered her friends.

"You're a wreck. Did you blow up a pumpkin outside?" she asked cheekily. Rowan laughed as the question was repeated.

"Something like that. You should see your boyfriend," she said jokingly. Mina rolled her eyes.

"God, he's such a child," she said with heavy exasperation.

"Oh no! Mina! _Help!_" came a shout from behind them. Mina's head jerked up and they turned to see Arthur hopping around the oven in a strange panicked dance with smoke billowing out of it.

"Shit!" Mina cursed before running into the kitchen as if it were a battlefield with wand brandished. Rowan and Remus shared a grimace and exited the kitchen quickly, leaving a smoking trail behind them.

Rowan led them up the winding stairs with the two small boys asleep in their arms. When they reached the nursery, they saw Lily and Percy asleep in a large chair in the corner with a book open in her lap. He was curled up with his face in the crook of her shoulder, their red hair melding together. They both grinned at the sight and continued quietly towards the cribs.

"I don't think they need a diaper change, but we should clean them up before they get any weird rashes," she whispered to Remus. He nodded and reached for the box of baby wipes.

They quietly wiped the two down, vanishing the pulp away from their clothes, though the yellow stains remained. She checked their diapers just in case to find them still fresh, then tucked them in, hoping they'd stay asleep for a while. She plopped down on the floor and let out a tired sigh.

"Looks like you need a nap too," Remus teased, sitting down next to her.

"Yeah, I have no idea how Molly can handle them all the time, let alone three other boys," she said exasperatedly. "That woman deserves an award."

Rowan looked around the room and saw evidence of the twin's mischief everywhere – various toys had pieces interchanged, almost grotesquely, and there were even smeared blue handprints and what looked like scorch marks on the wall. They would certainly be talented – albeit eccentric – wizards.

She then noticed that Remus was staring at her with that intense look again, mouth tightened with concentration.

"What?" she asked uncomfortably. That look was disarming. She felt like he was scanning through her mind. He didn't respond for a moment, just continued to stare. She shifted again.

"Do you ever want to have children?" he asked quietly. Rowan's stomach lurched at the sudden question.

"I suppose so," she said, eyeing him warily. "Not anytime soon, of course, but yeah, someday."

Remus' expression darkened, and Rowan's stomach lurched again.

"Why do you ask?" she asked carefully.

Remus seemed to think again. She could see his mouth twitch with frustration.

"I don't know if I can," he said quietly. "I'm afraid they'd be… like me."

Rowan's lungs constricted. He looked up at the cribs to see George's red hair, his tiny chest rising and falling slowly. She could see the muscle in Remus' jaw twitch, and understanding washed over her.

"Of course you can," she said fervently.

Remus turned back to her and frowned. She wasn't sure if she should shake him or laugh.

"There's no evidence of individuals with lycanthropy passing on their condition to their own children," she said seriously. Remus gazed at her disbelievingly, searchingly. "There's been one case of two werewolves mating mid-transformation, and the woman ended up giving birth to a litter of highly intelligent _normal_ wolves. But besides that, there is no data to even suggest that it's possible to pass on the condition."

Remus remained silent. She could see her words washing over him slowly. He looked away from her and stared down at his hands in his lap. It was as though he were breathing her words in, letting them fill his lungs. She thought back to the end of their Seventh Year when she'd read his letter from the I.C.E. and they'd laid together in the June sun.

"You're sure?" he asked quietly. Rowan frowned.

"Yes, definitely," she said firmly.

He turned back to her, and his eyes blazed. The air seemed to suck from her every pore, replacing her blood with fire. Had he really been so concerned about this? Her lips trembled as understanding filled her.

But she didn't hear what he had to say. They heard a shifting from behind them and both jerked around to see Lily sitting up sleepily, the book in her lap falling to the floor with a loud thud. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, noting the weight in her lap and the presence of her two friends on the floor. She blinked a few times, looking very confused.

"What're you guys doing down there? What time is it?" she asked.

Remus smiled. "We just put the twins down for a nap and were taking a break. It's about 3:15 I think," he answered.

Lily smiled and glanced down at the sleeping boy in her arms. "I should get this one into bed too I guess. Where's James?"

"He's outside with Bill and Charlie carving pumpkins. He's a total mess," Rowan teased.

Lily rolled her eyes but stood slowly, bouncing the boy in her arms to grasp him better. He grunted in his sleep but didn't wake up. She smiled gently down at him before inching out of the room carefully. Rowan smiled after them and struggled to her feet.

"She's going to be a fantastic mother," she said. She stretched her arms over her head, hearing the joints in her left side crack and pop with a slight groan.

"Yeah," Remus agreed, standing to his feet. She looked up at him to see him gazing at her gently. "You will be too," he said quietly.

Rowan felt her face burn. She wasn't sure how to respond. All of this talk about children and motherhood – she was overwhelmed.

"Winnie, I-" he started. He took her hand with his, grasping it tightly.

"Hey, you two ready to head back down?" Lily called suddenly from the other room.

They jerked apart to see the redhead poking her head back in. She grinned cheekily at the pair, obviously aware that she'd interrupted them once again, and Rowan rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," she said. She turned back to see Remus smiling thinly down at her. He nodded at her to lead. Her chest remained tight, but she obeyed, and they followed Lily out and down the stairs.

* * *

><p>When they returned to the kitchen, the smoke was gone, and Arthur and Mina had managed to salvage a slightly burnt pie. The boys came parading inside with jack o' lanterns brandished proudly. Remus charmed both of their pumpkins' carvings so that they were animated, much to their delight. Bill's acromantula was surprisingly frightening with its pincers clicking, and Charlie roared with glee at the way his dragon's mouth snapped menacingly. James' lion didn't look so much like a lion, but rather a vague, ambiguous animal with a large mouth and strange Afro, and Sirius had simply carved the words, "Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll" into his. Molly and Mina both slapped him on the back of the head, much to the younger boys' glee.<p>

The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly. After Percy and the twins woke up, the party gathered outside to eat dinner. Molly rallied the men together to help bring the furniture out. Gideon and Fabian clashed levitating chairs against each other mid-air with the toddlers shouting incoherently with excitement as they watched until Molly came storming outside, angrily berating them with Percy gripping her hand, a frightened look on his face. The two cowered under the force of their younger sister's wrath and quietly continued to set up the tables.

George had insisted on eating with Rowan while Fred had clung back to his mother. Remus sat next to her with Bill on his other side, asking him a steady flow of questions. It was clear that the boy was very curious about a wide array of subjects and demonstrated a mature level of wit. She marveled at how similar the two were, which young Bill had seemingly noticed and appreciated. Rowan listened carefully to their conversation, impressed with the boy's thirst for knowledge.

"I just don't understand why Goblins are categorized as Beings while Centaurs aren't. From everything that I've read, Centaurs seem to be just as intelligent and capable as Goblins, even if they're different brands of intelligence," Bill reasoned.

Remus nodded. "That's certainly true, but the reason Centaurs are listed as Beasts is because they choose to be. Merpeople did the same. They didn't approve of being categorized with Hags and Vampires I guess," he explained.

Bill nodded in understanding, a precociously wise expression on his face. "So then what's the difference between Being and wizard? Goblins are clearly in a different league from Vampires and definitely Hags. They're also just as naturally skilled in magic as wizards, so why can't they use wands? Same with House Elves! It doesn't seem fair," he continued.

"That's a good question," Remus said thoughtfully. "I definitely think the Being vs. Beast system is flawed, and to be honest, I think the reason Goblins aren't allowed wands is fear-based. Wandlore is a wizarding magic secret, whereas the Goblins have their own brand of magic that we know very little about. I think some people are afraid that if Goblins were to acquire wands, there would be conflict between our two races. Goblins also have a very different way of thinking from humans, so there's the possibility of miscommunication."

"What do you mean?" Bill asked curiously.

Remus smiled thinly. "Honestly, it's hard to explain. It's more economically based I think. They also find meaning in words that we don't and vice versa, so there are often misunderstandings between our races. I don't know how to explain it better," he said ruefully. "I suppose you'd just have to spend time with Goblins to understand better. As for House Elves, that's an entirely different issue and set of politics that I'm not as familiar with. You'd have to look into that more yourself."

Bill nodded slowly. "I think I kind of get it," he said.

As she listened to their conversation, Rowan hadn't felt so happy in ages. The Weasleys were certainly a remarkable family. She was almost jealous of how happy their family was and wished that she'd had a sibling as well. She couldn't wait to see how the twins developed. She could only hope that if she ever had children, they would be half as bright and sweet.

Rowan smiled to herself and turned back to the toddler in her lap. She raised a spoonful of mashed potatoes into George's mouth with a proud grin. He chewed happily, very pleased with himself for earning her look of praise.

"'Tato, Row!" he exclaimed. She giggled and wiped a bit from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, potato. Mummy is a good cook, right?" she teased. He nodded excitedly and lightly patted her face with a tiny palm.

He then turned down the table and shouted "'Tato!" at Fred, who looked up from his mother's lap and shouted, "'Tahto!" back.

After pudding was served, a loud clinking of a glass was heard at the end of the table. The loud conversations hushed and everyone turned to see Molly and Arthur standing at the head. Sirius held Fred for Molly, his tiny hands tugging on Sirius' long hair and laughing maniacally. Rowan had to stifle the snicker that rose in her throat from seeing the painful flinching on Sirius' face.

"Thank you so much for coming, everyone," Arthur started. "It's been a difficult year, so we thought it'd be nice to have everyone together like this to remind ourselves of how good our lives are, even in these hard times. We just wanted to say how grateful we are to have all of you in our lives and here in our home."

Rowan felt Remus squeeze her knee beneath the table, and her cheeks reddened. She tried to desperately fight off the warm feeling in her stomach, but he didn't let go.

"We also thought this would be a good time to make an announcement, since all of you are here," Arthur said steadily. He turned towards Molly and they shared a secret smile. "We're pregnant again!"

A series of happy shouts and applause rang down the table. Molly blushed pleasurably at the protective arm that Arthur wrapped around her shoulders. Gideon and Fabian both whistled down the table. Arthur's strange behavior from earlier suddenly made much more sense.

"How long?" Kingsley called.

"Almost four months – expecting in March!" Arthur said proudly.

"Still virile as ever, eh, Weasley?" Moody teased gruffly with a lopsided grin.

"That, or he doesn't know how to use a contraceptive spell!" Gideon shouted, much to Molly and Arthur's embarrassment and everyone else's amusement.

"What's that?" Charlie piped up next to his uncles. Molly shot daggers down the table at her brother, and Gideon laughed nervously.

"Nothing you need to know about just yet. I'll tell you when you're older," he said quickly to Charlie, whose face was screwed up with confusion.

"Are you two ever going to quit?" James asked with amazement.

Molly's face reddened even more, but she responded determinedly, "Not until I get a girl!" Everyone laughed again.

"Well, a toast then!" Gideon called out, standing to his feet with butterbeer in hand. Everyone else followed suit. Rowan slowly stood with George on her hip and held her glass of pumpkin juice out. The toddler held out his fist.

"To Molly and Arthur! May you be graced with good health and a happy pregnancy!"

"And a girl!" Lily called.

"And a girl," Gideon chuckled. He raised his bottle with a grin. "Congratulations!"

"_Congratulations!"_

* * *

><p>As they left the Burrow later that evening – after Remus promised to lend Bill a book about the Goblin Rebellions and Rowan said goodnight to the twins – Remus took Rowan's hand and laced his fingers with hers as he had been doing more frequently. She could tell he still had more to say from earlier but didn't push him. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he stared up at the sky, where a waxing moon was high and bright. The last lunar cycle had been mild, but Rowan still feared that the next time he'd come back and withdraw into himself again. Still, he continued to surprise her with his patience and newfound optimism. She wondered when he'd grow tired of it.<p>

But he didn't continue where they'd left off as she'd expected. He Disapparated them for London with barely a word shared between them, and when they finally reached her doorstep, he pulled her in roughly and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She heard him inhale deeply with his face buried in her hair. The feeling of his warmth in the cool October night was eerily calming, and before she could stop herself, her hands had hesitantly slid up his back to embrace him back. She could feel the surprise in his shoulders, but he relaxed and then held her even more tightly.

When he pulled away, his eyes burned through her, and the autumn air suddenly lost its chill. Her face reddened as he lifted a hand and buried it in her hair at the base of her neck. She felt the calluses of his hand graze her skin, and she shivered. His gaze darkened, and she fought the way her heart hit her throat.

His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and once again, she couldn't find her voice to protest. When she didn't push him away, he leaned forward, but instead of the slight brush he'd left her with a month before, he pressed against her firmly, sliding his lips over hers smoothly. Her hands gripped the rough wool of his coat tightly as his fingers tangled in her hair.

She sighed into the kiss, and he slipped his tongue past her lips quietly. It glided against hers gently, flicking her upper lip. The smallest of whimpers escaped her throat, and with another few slow pull of lips, suddenly, his mouth was gone.

He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed deeply, steadying himself with eyes closed. Her head swam from the kiss and she leaned against him for balance, trying to even her breathing. It barely even scratched the surface of their more intense, previous interludes, and yet she was left reeling. It had been so long since he'd touched her in such a way, and yet it had been so short.

"Thank you," he whispered. She looked up at him to see that his eyes were still closed, but his face was serene, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

"For what?" she asked.

He didn't answer though. He opened his eyes and gazed at her so gently that the tightness in her chest squeezed harder. He slid his hands down her arms and squeezed her hands, as if punctuating the end of the night. She felt bereft, like she'd missed something terribly important.

"For just being you I guess," he said quietly. He seemed to consider something for a moment. "I love you."

Her lungs seemed to collapse on themselves and threatened to dissolve away, but she didn't understand for what reason. She felt something break inside of her. She didn't know how to respond, though she knew how she felt. He seemed to read the conflict on her face with a gentle smile.

"It's okay," he said, smiling quietly at her. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She still couldn't find her voice and stared up at him, searching his face for a sign of whatever she'd missed. He simply gave her another burning look, squeezed her hand again, and then turned and walked down the stairs of her front stoop, and with a pop, he was gone. The October chill returned.


	43. Of the Constant Companion

**A/N**: Another sad anniversary, but it also ends on a lighter note. Also THANK YOU to everyone who's been reading! I can't tell you how happy I am whenever I get a review/favorite/follow!

**nessafly:** Hahaha thank you! And you're welcome, but [unfortunately?] this is another angsty one. I promise the next couple will be lighter!

**MajestyLove56:** Hello! Thank you so much! I can't tell you how happy I am to hear from another reader, and I'm so glad you're enjoying my story. Please let me know what you think in the future! Thank you again!

**lovirosa:** Thank you as always ^^

**casualmoose:** I definitely get what you're saying, and I'm really glad the last chapter helped assuage some of those doubts. This one is a little slower, but I promise the next couple of chapters will be happier. And thank you about the Weasleys! Gred & Forge are up high on my list of favorite characters, so I was pretty psyched to write about them, even if it was kind of short ^^

**missalex3030:** Thank you, thank you! I also really loved writing about the Weasleys. I'm a little afraid I'm going to start rushing things a bit, but I'm glad the tempo up to this point seems appropriate!

**sarahmichellegellarfan1: ** Thank you! I'm actually not sure about how long this one will be... We're coming up to the last stretch soon, but it's packed with a LOT events, so I think it'll probably hit close to 70 chapters, maybe. I think that's an overestimation though. I'm really hoping it won't be that long...

**snuffles95: **Thank you as always! Sorry for the wait!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 43: Of the Constant Companion<strong>

Rowan stood beneath a large clear blue sky. The sun seemed particularly yellow. It seemed to flicker and fall and shatter against the branches of the trees above with the wind gently rustling its fragments. She felt like if she were to look into it for too long, she might fade away into the light. She could nearly pretend that she stood at the top of the canopies.

The Lupins, Marauders, and friends walked through the cemetery in which Leanna Lupin had been laid to rest with somewhat light hearts. Despite the frigid chill of the November morning, Rowan felt surprisingly warm with her hand in Remus'. She could almost hear Leanna's bright laughter in the clattering leaves.

But she still felt the tension in her stomach as she hazarded a glance up at Remus. His face held dark shadows, and she understood that he still carried the guilt from his mother's death. In the week approaching her passing's one-year anniversary, Rowan had realized in his increasing silence that he'd never discussed it with her, and she'd never bothered to ask. It had been the same with her father's – they'd both felt the line drawn between them and hadn't dared to breach it. It seemed too intimate, inappropriate for "just friends" to really discuss. Had it been difficult for him to carry all this time? Had he shared his guilt with even his father?

No, she knew he'd most likely kept it locked away within him. Lyall was a stern man, and Rowan knew Remus had felt much more comfortable discussing his private musings with his mother. She'd at least had Alfred with whom to share her feelings of guilt and shame regarding her father's death. Had Remus been able to confide in anyone?

No, and even if he had, he probably would have reacted the same way. Even if she and Remus had still been together at that point, he would have undoubtedly pulled away from her again. She cringed internally as she thought of all of his dark expressions, her silent ache to have him confide in her. Perhaps this was finally the moment she'd been dreading - the moment he'd fall away from her again. Perhaps it would finally convince him that she'd been right all along. She breathed in the cool air deeply, bracing herself for the blow.

As they approached Leanna's grave, their friends stepped back discreetly to allow Lyall and Remus a private moment. Rowan loosened her grip on Remus' hand, and she felt him let go without protest. Something inside her pinched painfully as she watched him walk on without her, and she silently berated herself – today wasn't about her feelings of insecurity.

The Marauders all turned away and quietly basked in the flickering light beneath the trees. The air was crisp and clean in their lungs, and the grass was unusually green for so late in the year – did the groundskeepers enchant it? A strong breeze breathed through the trees, and a soft cascade of yellow and brown leaves floated around them. Rowan thought of her happy conversations with Leanna in the fall sun a little over a year before and smiled faintly. Even the stark chill of the hospital had been warmed by the older woman's presence.

They heard the soft crunching of cold grass and turned to see Remus and Lyall walking back towards them. Lyall seemed surprisingly light, a serene expression on his face. He gazed around the grounds with the gentlest smile, and Rowan realized with some awe that perhaps Remus had inherited his from his father, and not Leanna like she'd always thought. She assessed the older man with his distinguished graying hair and kind eyes and wondered if Remus would age the same way. She fought the amused smile that threatened to break through – she kind of hoped so.

However, as she turned to Remus, she saw the fatigue, the dark shadows still there. His eyes were dry, but his mouth held a twisted line. She saw the muscles strain in his jaw, at his brow line. Her suspicions were correct – he still blamed himself.

But then Lily's hand snatched Rowan's, and she felt herself being pulled along to pay her respects with their friends. She stole a glance at Remus as she moved past him, but he didn't meet her gaze, eyes unfocused and averted. The pinch was felt again.

They offered flowers and soft words, and though Lily's eyes filled with tears, they remained unshed. Instead, there were small smiles and even a few quiet giggles as they shared their funny stories about Remus from the past year to their friend's late mother. Rowan hoped desperately that she could hear them.

As they said their goodbyes, Rowan lingered. They shot her a few worried looks, but Lily released her hand to allow her a moment alone with Leanna. She gazed upon the engraved name on the tombstone. It seemed very cold, very unlike her. She pushed away the sickening guilt that threatened to emerge again.

She'd reasoned over the past year that Leanna's final stroke had not been her fault, but the nauseating shame still returned from time to time. She forced back the memory of her body falling limp in the Lupins' kitchen and tried to think instead of Leanna laughing with her and her mother in the hospital and the way her voice seemed to sing through her familiar bubbly handwriting. She'd kept all of her letters from the woman in the box that contained all of Remus' and had cried quietly over them just days before when she'd realized the approaching date. They left a bittersweet feeling in her heart.

"I miss you," she thought silently. "I wish you were here."

She wanted more than anything in that moment to speak to her again, but she just stood quietly and listened to the soft breeze. There was no use talking to a deaf tombstone, and Leanna couldn't speak to her from the grave. She gazed longingly upon the gray stone, wondering how it could be the last remainder of her dear friend, and then turned away to rejoin the group. She felt her diaphragm spasm with grief momentarily, but her eyes remained dry – she felt strangely accomplished.

As they walked back towards the entrance, Remus didn't retake her hand, and she didn't seek his. The deep pinch hollowed out emptily at the pit of her stomach and she felt the rift slowly pulling again. She tried desperately to not think so bitterly – she was being petty, and she should be thinking of only Leanna this day. She shoved hard at the dark thoughts and looked back up at the sky between the trees. It was so blue she could fall into it.

* * *

><p>"Rowan, you don't need to do that."<p>

Rowan looked up from the soapy dish in her hands to see Lyall standing next to her at the kitchen counter of the Lupin household with a concerned look. She could hear her friends in the living room chatting animatedly. She grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, I know," she said, shrugging, "but I kind of enjoy doing it by hand to be honest. It helps me relax."

Lyall smiled. "Well, thank you all the same. It's nice to see you around the house again," he said warmly. "How have you been?"

"I've been well – studying for my potioneer exam in January. How are you?" she responded as she rinsed off the plate in her hands and passed it off to a dishtowel she had enchanted. It enveloped the plate quickly and efficiently placed it in the drying rack with a soft clink.

Lyall's eyes crinkled fondly as he watched Rowan move onto the next plate in the sink. "I can't complain," he said lightly. "Work is good, Remus is good." He paused and gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. "I see he took my advice and asked you to take him back," he said quietly.

Rowan's mouth twitched in conflict – to frown or smile?

"That was you, was it?" she said thoughtfully. She watched the bubbles float down the smooth surface of the plate. It was strangely comforting.

"Well, not just me – apparently Lily said something to him too," he said amusedly. He assessed her again. "You don't seem entirely pleased," he noted knowingly. A strand of hair fell from the messy bun on top of her head and into her eyes. She jerked her head awkwardly in frustration to fling it from her face.

"It's that obvious, huh?" she responded sheepishly.

Lyall nodded and smiled somewhat ruefully. "I imagined as much. It must be hard to trust him after everything you two have been through."

Rowan hummed in agreement and nodded, handing the plate to the towel and moving onto the couple of teacups that remained. As she grasped the cold tinkering handle of one, she remembered the delicate blue patterns on the white porcelain and the way its sibling had shattered against the floor. She subconsciously leaned off of her left foot as she recalled the sharp pain from the fragment that had embedded into it.

"You _are_ giving him another chance though, right?" Lyall pushed gently.

Rowan felt her throat tighten slightly. Was it right to discuss this with Remus' father? It had never seemed as significant when talking to Leanna – the woman had been the epitome of maternal instinct. It had always simply felt natural confiding her concerns in her, even when they'd involved Remus. But Lyall wasn't the kind of man who easily fell into topics like these. She could talk to him for days about things of higher virtue, but her relationship with his son? She felt uneasy.

"I suppose," she admitted slowly. She sighed and decided it'd be rude to brush the conversation off after Lyall had sought her out in private. "I'm not really sure how to feel about it though." She worked her hands and fingers through the soap and water, gliding them over the smooth surface of the teacup.

"To be honest, I'm not expecting much from him. I'm sort of just waiting for him to leave me again," she said quietly. She'd said it several times before, but even now, it still stung deeply to hear the words aloud. She smiled bitterly to herself. She rinsed the teacup of its soapy bubbles and passed it off to the towel gently – just one more teacup to go.

"I can understand that," Lyall said knowingly. He took the floating towel into his hands as he saw her rinse off the soap of the last cup and grasped it gently, sliding over the dips and curves the cup. Rowan admired the long fingers of his hands and recognized the lines, the movements, as Remus'. She felt her heart ache.

"I feel like I should apologize to you actually," he said quietly. He set the cup down onto the drying rack, wiping his hands off on the towel before hanging it over the sink faucet. He raised his gaze to Rowan's, and she saw his eyes flicker with remorse. She didn't know what to do.

"I think a large reason for Remus' martyr-complex is because of me," he explained steadily. "I was always so worried when he was growing up. I was obsessive over his protection and taking measures to make sure no one knew about his condition. I'm sure it took a toll on him. We only wanted to make sure he was safe, but in the end, I think we might have overdone it. I think he developed his guilt because he saw how guilty _we_ felt. But it's not his fault. It's mine."

Lyall's expression had darkened, and she could nearly see the barrage of angry thoughts spread through him. She wished she could hear them. The similarities between his face and Remus' were suddenly startling. She felt a surge of painful affection for this future projection of Remus.

"How was he bitten?" Rowan asked suddenly. Her face burned as the question left her mouth. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind – how had the words formed on her tongue without even thinking them? She was mortified. How could she ask this of Lyall?

Lyall's eyes widened with horror. "He's never told you?" he asked.

Rowan's face screwed up with confusion. That certainly wasn't the reaction she'd expected. He was surprised that Remus had never shared the story with her? She supposed that after all that they'd been through it might be strange, but he'd always been so uncomfortable discussing the darker aspects of his condition – she'd just assumed that it was too painful to discuss and she wasn't going to push him. She suddenly felt very awkward. She shook her head slowly.

Lyall frowned deeply with heavy remorse and confusion fighting in his expression. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he thought better of it. She watched him waver back and forth, back and forth, until finally, he shook his head minutely.

"I shouldn't say anything. It's his story to tell," he said sadly. "Just…" he paused, fighting some silent battle in his head. "… Don't think too poorly of me," he said quietly.

Rowan frowned as well. "I could never," she said fervently.

Lyall smiled thinly. It was a bitter expression. She'd never seen it on him before. It was unnerving.

Suddenly, there was a soft pattering of footsteps and creaking as the kitchen door swung open. Remus came in with a few dishes in hand but paused at the sight of Rowan and his father talking alone. He frowned.

"What's going on?" he asked carefully.

Lyall smiled warmly. Rowan tried to follow suit but knew she looked stiff. She kicked herself mentally – how was she still so bad at lying?

"I was just helping Rowan with the dishes and catching up with her," he responded casually. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall. "It's getting quite late. Shouldn't you all be getting back to town soon?"

Remus eyed his father suspiciously. "Yeah, I think we're going to head out soon," he said. He placed the dishes in the sink then flicked his wand, starting an efficient assembly line of soaping, rinsing and drying.

"Well then, let me see you lot out," Lyall said kindly. Remus nodded and headed back out to the living room, shooting Rowan another glance but not saying anything. She felt the tension leave her stomach slightly. She looked back up at Lyall, who was smiling down at her.

"Thank you for hearing out this old man," he said warmly. "I know it's hard to believe in him, and I won't pretend to give you any answers, but I can truthfully say that he loves you."

Rowan's chest tightened painfully, but she smiled back. "Thank you, Lyall. And if it helps at all, I can honestly say that you have nothing to feel guilty about. You've raised an incredibly strong man, and you deserve all the praise in the world."

Lyall smiled sadly, and the pain constricted further. She felt as if all the tears in the world were cradled in that one expression. He patted her on the head gently and smiled.

"You sweet girl," he said. His eyes seemed to scan over her face, as if trying to memorize it. "Thank you."

Rowan mustered all the warmth she had into a smile and hoped that her feelings would reach him. He smiled back and then let her go. He followed her back to the living room where her friends had all already put their coats and shoes on. Remus had her coat in hand, holding it up for her with that careful expression of his. She pushed away the feeling of discomfort that remained lest their friends notice.

She slid into her coat, trying to ignore the pressure of his hands through the wool, as Lyall said goodbye to the rest of them. There was a cluster of chatter and warm regards, and as she and Remus stepped out at the end, Lyall squeezed his son's shoulder tightly with that heartbreakingly sad smile again and swiftly hugged Rowan goodbye. He stood out on the front porch waving goodbye as they each Disapparated for London, and as she fell into the void alone – Remus' hand didn't reach out to her once again – she tried to memorize Lyall's lean form in that warm doorway with the orange setting sun in his eyes.

* * *

><p>When they arrived on her doorstep, Remus was still quiet. She hadn't been able to bring her gaze to meet his during their brief walk down the street, and she couldn't be sure if he had even looked at her at all either. She kept trying to push her feelings of inadequacy aside for this one day, despite the quiet whispers in the back of her mind. He needed comfort today, regardless of whatever conflict remained in her heart regarding their relationship. She grabbed his hand and led him into her building before he could protest, and though she felt him stiffen, he followed without a word.<p>

As she guided him into her flat, the tension in her chest tightened slightly. She wasn't sure what to do now – he didn't look like he wanted to discuss anything [not that he ever did], and she wasn't sure how else to comfort him. She decided lamely that making tea would be a good start. She moved towards the stove quietly to put a kettle on while he wandered in sort of listlessly, sitting down at her table. She heard the chair creak slightly as he sat, but beyond those few sounds, he was completely silent. The tension emptied out hollowly into her stomach.

As the water boiled, she moved quietly to her dresser and pulled out comfortable clothes for herself. She saw Remus' old t-shirt and sweatpants in her drawer and thought hard for a moment. She hadn't touched them since that rainy September afternoon, but she'd caught herself staring at them from time to time. Was this the right thing to do?

She breathed deeply and mustered her courage forward. _It doesn't mean anything_. She was just being a good friend. She pulled the clothes from her drawer with determined hands and turned back towards the table.

Remus sat silently, staring out the window at the quickly setting sun with an empty expression. The red light glinted off of his light hair and seemed to stain his skin. It'd been so long since she'd allowed herself to really look at him carefully, but as she noted the angle of his jaw, the long line of his neck, her heart ached painfully. He looked like he might fall beneath the earth with the sun, and she thought she might melt under its glare. Her decision suddenly seemed like a grave mistake, but she willed herself forward, gripping the soft cotton in her hands.

She placed the clothing in front of him on the table softly, and he seemed only to vaguely understand where he was, turning and looking at it with a confused expression. He gazed at it as if it were scripture in a foreign language, and then looked up to assess Rowan in the same daze. Her stomach lurched, breath short. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She must be a masochist.

"Stay here the night," she said quietly.

Remus held her gaze evenly, thoughts flickering across his face slowly. She struggled to give what she hoped was an encouraging smile, but her chest still remained painfully tight. She turned away to return back to the kettle, which was emitting the first whispers of a shriek, thankful that she didn't have to face him for a moment. It was too much. She needed to think about something else before her heart imploded with anxiety.

She waved her wand at her cupboards, and a floating line of teapot and teacups danced down to the counter as she pulled out her tealeaves. The teacups continued on to the table as she poured the steaming water into the teapot, watching the leaves swirl chaotically in its depths. She'd never had an interest in Divination – it wasn't in her nature to be superstitious – but the dark mass tangling and contorting left a hollow ache at the pit of her stomach. She gazed at it a moment longer before closing it with a light clink of china, wondering dully what the leaves spelled out in the dark when no one could see them.

She turned back towards the table and placed the teapot between her cup and Remus', carefully making sure not to meet his gaze. He was holding the clothing now with stiff hands. They seemed tense yet lifeless, like wooden appendages unable to bend.

"Should let it steep for a moment," she murmured quietly before turning back towards her dresser and the clothes that she'd set out for herself before.

But a hand shot out to grab her wrist, pulling her back. She let out a surprised squeak as she staggered backward, stumbling slightly into a pair of waiting arms. Rowan's lungs seized as she realized that Remus had stood from the table, pushing it slightly in his sudden movement with a loud shriek of wood and clinking dishes, and had yanked her against him. She collided with his chest with a dull thud and was quickly enveloped tightly in a pair of long arms.

Remus trembled slightly, breath ragged. She felt his heart pounding against his chest, thrumming wildly against her own. Her instinct was to pull away, but he held her so tightly against him that it muted any protests that sprang to her mind. His heat overcame her in a searing wave, and all she could do was accept it, feeling it spread through her limbs like fire. It was nearly too much to bear.

"Rowan," he whispered. Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.

His arms were like a vice, tight and rigid around her. She could barely even move her arms to hold him back, though she wasn't sure if she could even find register over them. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and she could hear the rapid echo of his heart thrumming against his ribs. For several moments, he didn't speak, and she didn't know how to respond to all of this. She simply let herself go limp, listening as the tempo of his heart slowed steadily.

"I'm sorry."

His words shot through her quickly but painlessly like a thin beam of light. "For what?"

He paused and breathed deeply, face buried in her hair. "I don't know."

He held her against him in silence. The shadows the setting sun cast were long and heavy, black against the red light that shone in blindingly. As she raised her arms, sliding her hands up his back, their shadows seemed to bleed together seamlessly. She felt every familiar plane and cord of his back through his robes. His scent filled her lungs almost painfully. He was with her – here.

Finally, he pulled away slowly, and for the first time that day, she felt as if he was truly looking at her. His eyes glowed in the dim light of the evening. She could see every flicker of brown and gray and green as they combed over her slowly, and despite the long shadows the sun cast on his face, she couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at her so brightly. His hands reached up to her face, cradling it gently. They seemed much larger than usual, like he could crush her with a flick of his thumb and fingers. His face was so close to hers. She was overwhelmed.

"I'm always making you wait, aren't I?" he murmured. His gaze was so warm. She didn't know how to respond, but her lips trembled unwittingly. He smiled softly. Her gaze flickered to his mouth as the small scar there stretched. Her lungs constricted at the small movement.

"You've always been here," he whispered, "but I never seem to notice."

His words seeped into her warmly, pulling at her veins. Realization washed over her slowly, and before she could stop herself, her lips had quirked upward slightly. "You did today," she replied.

Remus' brows furrowed before his face melted with understanding. He smiled gently.

Rowan felt something inside of her break. Her head swam heavily. She clutched at the material of his robes at his waist, afraid that if she let go, he'd fall away back into the depths of her mind. He was here – _here_. He hadn't disappeared, hadn't pulled away. She was breathing his air, sharing his heat. He had _stayed._

But she was suddenly jerked from her momentary reprieve as she recognized the dark tone of his robes – today wasn't about her.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

Remus' smile faltered, the troubled look on his face returning. Her throat tightened.

"Yes. Maybe," he answered hesitantly. His eyes took on a harder look. "Yes, I am okay. Today was just... difficult," he said firmly. His eyes blazed then softened. "Thank you for being with me."

Rowan nodded. _Always_, she thought instinctively, but she couldn't say it – wouldn't it be a lie? She spread her fingers against his waist, feeling his mass beneath her hands. He was so solid, so substantial. He felt real for the first time in ages.

"It's okay to miss her," she whispered. "But you know it's not your fault, right?"

Remus grimaced slightly. His grip on her tightened, and he leaned against her a bit. The pressure of his weight had never felt so comforting.

"I know," he whispered. "Thank you."

His thumbs brushed at her cheeks. He slid a hand into her dark mass of hair, tangling them there securely. A look of deep satisfaction spread across his features.

"I love you," he whispered.

Rowan didn't respond, but the feeling in her chest wasn't tight with panic. Warmth spread through her slowly, calmly. She felt her lips spread into a smile and her fingers pushed from his waist to his back. She slid into him, pressing herself against his form, feeling the curves of her body melt into his. She held him tightly to her, imagining that she could meld her bones into his. The tension in his arms tightened almost minutely for the briefest of moments before wrapping around her enthusiastically, nearly crushing her. She felt his breath hot against her neck, his fingers gripping her desperately. She could nearly taste his disbelief, his joy. It felt like hope.


	44. Of Joy to the World

**A/N**: I'm going out of town, so I'll be slow on the update; however, this is a really long, fluffy one to make up for it. Also, there's a bit of action, so REJOICE AND BE GRATEFUL. It's nothing too heavy though, so sorry. While I'm away, please write me a review or shoot me a PM! I love hearing from all of you!

To the **REVIEWERS**: Sorry, but I'm in a hurry today, so I can't tell you all thank you individually, but as always, I am EXTREMELY grateful for all of your kind words!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 44: Of Joy to the World<strong>

A high pitch alarm rang through the Delacroix Manor kitchen that reminded Rowan very much of Belby's old augurey Alexander.

"Can you pull the turkey from the oven for me, dear?" Carole Delacroix called loudly over her shoulder. Her hands were covered in gooey fruit matter, and little puffs of white flour coated her silvery hair.

Rowan didn't need to be told twice. She had already moved forward in a rush, determined to turn the grating alarm off as quickly as possible. She slapped the off-switch, panic still gripping her stomach as the sound finally stopped, before opening the oven. As the door swung open, a wave of heat hit her with the delicious smell of her mother's work. She flicked her wand and floated the heavy bird from the oven and onto the stove, admiring the browned, glistening skin. Her stomach growled as she admired the assortment of food splayed out around her, but she kept her hands to herself. They ached slightly at the memory of her mother slapping them as she'd tried to sneak food before dinner as a child. She thought sourly that she'd been trained quite well.

As she turned, she narrowly missed getting smacked in the face by a beautifully latticed, floating pie. She craned away from it as her mother set it into the oven gracefully, and with another flick of her wand, the oven closed and locked. Rowan looked up at the clock on the wall – 4 p.m. Their guests would be arriving in a couple of hours.

She sighed to herself heavily. She supposed this was as good of a time as any to tell her mother about her and Remus. She hoped that their impending guests would minimize her mother's anger.

The month and a half since Remus had first spent the night with her again had passed happily. He hadn't pushed her to be intimate with him, though she imagined that it'd be impossible to feel any sort of arousal after the day they'd had. She'd nervously gone to bed with him only to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around her tightly as she always had before. When she'd woken the next morning, her lungs had seared with panic, but there he was sleeping beside her still. As she gazed at his sleeping face, she felt something inside of her begin to crack, and though she feared its implications, she finally admitted to herself with some exhilaration that he had truly kept his word – he was beginning to change.

And so they'd finally begun to pick up their relationship again, almost like a real couple, though it continued slowly still. She didn't initiate most of their physical contact, but she accepted his affections happily. When he went home each evening, he said goodbye with slow kisses and protective hands. She'd even allowed him to stay the night a few more times, much to his joy, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the way his face would light up whenever she shyly suggested it.

Alfred still remained skeptical about her relationship with Remus, understandably, and had been pestering her to tell Carole. Now, with the Potters and Lupins coming for Christmas dinner, she knew that she'd have to come clean with her mother. There was no way Carole wouldn't notice the new [re]developments between them, and she'd never hear the end of it if she let her find out like that. She grit her teeth and pushed forward.

"Hey, Mum."

"Hm?" Carole glanced over vaguely from the sink where her hands were covered with soapy water.

"Well, uh," she started. She had no idea how to say this. Should she work up to it? She groaned internally. No, it was best to just be direct about it. She supposed there was no use in dragging it out.

"Remus and I are dating again."

Silence. Rowan felt her stomach clench. This was bad. Her mother was worse than a Howler when she was angry, but she always knew that silence preceded the worst of verbal assaults. She braced herself for the onslaught.

But it never came. "And?" she asked.

Rowan blinked. "What?'"

Carole arched an eyebrow at Rowan. "Really? You thought I didn't know?" she asked dryly. Rowan frowned.

Carole sighed with mild exasperation. "We always knew it was just a matter of time before you two got back together. I'm just surprised it took you this long."

Rowan frowned deeply. "But Dad told Remus-" she started confusedly.

"That was just supposed to give him a push. He didn't think he'd actually go through with that silly promise. The boy can't keep his hands off of you."

"Mum!" Rowan groaned with embarrassment. The thought of her parents discussing Remus' attraction to her made her face burn.

"Oh, don't be a prude. It's true."

Rowan had no idea what to do with this information. She frowned deeply at her mother as she continued to wash the goopy mixing bowl in her hands.

"Dear, you shouldn't make that face. It'll give you wrinkles," Carole scolded.

Rowan couldn't process this right. She wasn't quite sure if she should feel relieved or disturbed, but she felt as if her mother was still keeping something from her, so she waited.

Carole continued to work for a few moments before setting down the utensils in her hands quietly. She sighed.

"I can't say that I approve though," she admitted. Rowan watched her warily, waiting for the next to come. "He's hurt you time and time again, and regardless of whatever he's said that's convinced you he deserves another chance, I don't think he does - not after everything you've done for him."

Rowan read the deep lines in her mother's face, which suddenly seemed much heavier than before. She was reminded of the weight in her father's face right before he'd died. Her lungs tightened slightly as she saw Carole's hands gripping a dish towel in her hands tightly, as if trying to hold in the resentment she felt towards Remus.

"But I know how hard it is to walk away from someone after all that you've been through together. And you two have been through much more than most couples at your age," she said. She smiled sadly, and Rowan knew she was thinking of Richard. She moved back towards her mother quietly and wrapped an arm around her frail shoulders. It had been years since she'd passed her in height, and yet it still felt bittersweet and strange to see how tall she was in comparison. Carole sighed and embraced her back.

"I suppose it's up to you to decide whether a painful life with him is worth more than one without him," she murmured.

"How did you decide that Dad was worth it?" Rowan asked.

Carole smiled softly. "Sometimes there are just people that will always be a part of our lives, no matter how much we wish they weren't." She smirked suddenly. "Besides, your father wouldn't have left me alone even if I'd shaved my head and ran away to the mountains. He was the most stubborn son of a bitch I've ever met."

Rowan snorted and the two women shared a few soft giggles. Rowan cherished the quiet private moment with her mother and thought to herself that maybe, if her parents were any indication, she might find her happiness with Remus in the end, even if he brought more pain with him.

* * *

><p>As Remus stood in front of Delacroix Manor with his father, he felt his chest clench slightly. He'd been there numerous times at this point, and yet it still remained so domineering. He knew he'd have to face Rowan's mother and Alfred for the first time since he'd been trying to win Rowan back again, and he was dreading it. The first time he'd left Rowan at the end of their Sixth Year, Alfred had been frigid, to say the least. He could only imagine the cold treatment he was in for this time.<p>

As the door opened, the bright lights of the foyer spilled out into the night. Much to his surprise though, Remus was greeted not by a cold Alfred, but by a grinning James. He sighed with some relief at the sight of his friend.

"You're late!" he scolded jokingly.

"Let us in, you git," Remus retorted, pushing James back into the house. James guffawed heartily and stood aside bowing deeply.

"I can take your coats, good sirs," he said grandly. Remus slid his coat off and tossed it at James after Lyall had handed over his with an amused smile.

"Rude!" James exclaimed. Remus simply rolled his eyes and looked around the foyer.

An assortment of sparkling ornaments and tinsel hung around the high ceilings elegantly with red and green lights glowing prettily around the room. He thought to himself that Alfred had really outdone himself this year.

"Head to the living room for a drink?" James suggested, coming back from the closet.

Lyall nodded, but Remus looked around. "Where's Rowan?" he asked.

"Oh, I think she's still upstairs actually. I haven't seen her yet."

Remus thought for a moment. He'd never been upstairs before. "I'm going to go find her. I'll be back down in a minute."

"Don't get too handsy. I'd like to eat soon," Lyall said casually. Remus' ears burned at his father's suggestion and James laughed loudly. Remus scowled at his father's sly grin before heading up the stairs quickly.

* * *

><p>Rowan stood in front of her mirror, assessing the outfit she'd picked out for herself. It was just a simple skirt and blouse – not the most fashionable, but it'd do. She supposed she looked appropriate and perhaps somewhat feminine. She'd even go so far as to say that she looked cute.<p>

Alfred and her mother had shoved her up the stairs about 30 minutes prior, threatening pain and misery if she showed up downstairs again in what they called "her usual man-child attire." She looked over her appearance in the mirror again, turning around and assessing her silhouette and lines. Alfred and Carole certainly wouldn't be able to complain, and that's all she could really ask for. She sighed and began to button the blouse up.

Then there was a knock at her door, and she groaned.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she barked. Honestly, Alfred demanded that she change and then was going to pester her? He couldn't seriously expect her to-

"Oh."

Remus stood in front of her doorway with an amused expression, mouth twisting into a smirk. Her face burned slightly as she realized that her blouse remained somewhat open, and her hands shot up to close it.

"Merry Christmas to me," Remus said suggestively. He laughed as Rowan smacked him in the arm with a scowl and reddened cheeks, and then grabbed her hand gently and dipped down, kissing her swiftly and affectionately. As he pulled away, he grinned at the blush that still stained her cheeks.

"So this is your room," he said slowly, looking around and assessing the space.

"Yeah, um, come in I guess," Rowan mumbled, standing to the side to let him in.

He wandered in and gazed around him slowly, taking in the bright scarlet walls, the details of her crowded bookshelves, her messy desk, and her simple bed. His eyes lingered on her Puddlemere United poster and the photos pasted along the wall above her bed from her days at Hogwarts. He grinned at the line of stuffed animals on her bed.

"It's much girlier than I'd expected," he teased. "I never knew you were into stuffed toys."

Rowan's face reddened slightly. "My dad bought them for me. You know how he was with unnecessary gifts," she shrugged stiffly. She finished buttoning up her blouse and smoothed out her skirt, thankful that his attention was diverted elsewhere.

Remus moved to her bookshelf, eyes scanning over her assortment of novels and music. A soft smile danced on his lips. Many of the covers were worn out or creased, and he could imagine Rowan as a little girl spilling pumpkin juice on them while reading or James snatching them from her hands to torment her. His eyes trailed over her keepsakes and photos from her youth, most of which were of her and James wrestling or covered in some sort of mess with maniacal grins and tousled hair. In a couple, Alfred stood with them, his hair much darker, laughing at their mischief.

Rowan's chest tightened slightly as she saw Remus' gaze stop on her music collection. Several of the records had been gifts from him. They brought bittersweet memories, and she'd left them at home for a reason – she wasn't sure what memories they'd evoke if she were to listen to them now, even after all the time that had passed.

"You never opened these," he said, gesturing to a few. She recognized them as the birthday gifts he'd sent her the summer before their Seventh Year – right after he'd broken up with her the first time.

Rowan nodded and thought carefully of how to explain herself. He pulled them gently from the shelf, looking over them quietly with a thoughtful expression.

"These were from your 17th," he noted. Rowan nodded again. He turned towards her, and she was surprised to see a sad smile on his face.

"I know it was hard to talk to me back then," he said knowingly.

Rowan's stomach clenched painfully as the sad memories of that summer floated through her softly. She didn't remember the pain freshly, but the shadows of her loneliness remained vaguely. She smiled sadly as well.

"It was worth it though," she said. She hoped that her honesty was felt and was mildly surprised by how much she meant it.

Remus' face melted gently. The expression gripped her heart almost painfully. He slid the records back into place then turned back towards her. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her waist gently.

Rowan felt his heat soak into her slowly, and she noted how calm she felt. Ever since he'd stayed the night, she'd begun to let go of her tension while in his presence, and she realized suddenly that it was nearly gone. She still felt a small inkling of fear in the back of her mind, but the voice was so small, like the softest of whispers from a distant dream. She snaked her arms around his neck and smiled. He smiled back warmly.

"You look cute today," he said.

She grinned and held her chin up cheekily. "Damn right I do."

Remus laughed softly and leaned forward, catching her lips with his own. She sighed into the kiss, feeling him smile against her. She felt him playfully tug at her bottom lip with his teeth. She smiled and leaned into him, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair.

When he swept his tongue into her mouth softly, her stomach flipped. She noted somewhere at the back recesses of her mind that this kiss was quickly becoming very different than their recent touches. His hands seemed to burn through her blouse and into her skin, and she felt the long lost but familiar ache shoot through her. He hadn't kissed her like this in so long - over a year. It was overwhelming. It seemed wrong to feel so much heat in her childhood bedroom, and yet as he pushed her up against her bookshelf with his body pressed hotly against hers, she couldn't protest. She shuddered slightly as she felt his hands burning through her blouse and up her sides, grazing the sides of her breasts.

His mouth left hers and worked its way to her neck, but the collar of her blouse presented an obstruction. He pulled away with some frustration, and the dark heat in his eyes sent a surge of fire through her. How long had it been since he'd looked at her like that? Before she could stop herself, her hands had reached up to clumsily undo the first few buttons of her blouse. As her fingers made way of the buttons, Remus' breath came raggedly, eyes fixated on the small movements with deep rapture and fingers gripping her hips tightly. When they finally came undone, his lips were suddenly on her neck again, fingers pushing the material open, searing along her collarbone.

Rowan whimpered as she felt his tongue trail up her neck and over her pulse point. He growled against her skin, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her hip. She had to bite her lip to muffle the cry that sprang from her throat as she felt him part her legs with a knee, grinding himself against her core. Every one of her muscles clenched, and suddenly, his hand was gripping her thigh and wrapping it around his waist, holding her tightly against him as he pushed hard to add to the friction between them. She could feel her skirt ride up as he lifted her leg to his hip, pushing it up for more access. His teeth were at her collarbone, tongue trailing down over the tops of her breasts.

She gasped as he ground himself against her. He groaned softly and tore his lips from her neck, bringing them back up to her mouth. He thrust his tongue over hers possessively, and she scraped her nails over his shoulders and in his hair roughly. As he bit her lip in return, she knew vaguely that her lips would be quite swollen, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. She just wanted more of mouth, wanted his hands on her bare skin. She wanted him to push her skirt up and just-

"Winnie, are you seriously still- FUCK! WHY?"

Remus shot off of Rowan in an instant. Her room came into focus in a swimming daze just in time to see James' look of horror as he slammed the door shut.

"_Why wouldn't you shut the door first?__"_ James wailed outside of her door.

Rowan gawped at the door for a moment, the slam echoing in her ears dully. She looked back over at Remus with a dumbfounded look. He was also staring at the door with a horrified expression, his hair a disheveled mess, lips swollen, and jumper and shirt rumpled and twisted a bit. She felt a strange surge of satisfaction that he seemed just as dazed as she was. A grin pulled at her lips, and before she could stop herself, she was laughing softly at the absurdity of their situation. Remus frowned at her strange reaction.

"I'm sorry," she giggled, "but _again_. It's just so…" She dissolved into another quiet bout of giggles. Remus' frown melted into an amused smile. He reached for her gently, pulling her back against him. She grinned and turned her face up to him welcomingly. She leaned into him as he kissed her again softly.

"_Any year now would be nice!" _

Remus laughed softly against Rowan's lips and then pulled away. "Okay, just give us a moment!" he called back. They heard James mumble something incoherent.

"Well then," Remus said, looking over Rowan. He patted her hair down and then pulled away, eyes trailing over her form. "You might want to…" He gestured to her collar. Her hands rose up to her neck. She ran her fingers over her skin and felt some slight sensitivity. She realized with a grimace she was probably covered in hickeys.

Remus grinned ruefully. "Sorry, it looks like I got a bit carried away," he admitted. Rowan sighed and moved towards her mirror. Her neck was indeed painted with red blotches, and her skirt was twisted and rumpled. Her lips were already swollen and red and slightly sore. She buttoned her collar up all the way and sighed with relief that it luckily covered most of them. She pulled her hair over her shoulders, hiding any remaining redness. She hoped the swelling of her lips would fade quickly.

She glanced back at Remus to see him with his hand in his pants, tucking his shirt back in. His face held a grimace, and she noted with half satisfaction, half embarrassment that he was adjusting the physical remnants of their heated moment with some discomfort. He caught her eye and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry… you just have this effect on me," he said. She laughed with a mild blush as he finished sorting himself out. After smoothing out his clothes, he looked back over at her with a smile.

"Hungry?" She smiled.

"Starving."

* * *

><p>Dinner was a beautiful affair, as was expected from Carole and Alfred. The party had grinned knowingly at Rowan and Remus as they'd appeared in the dining room together, and Alfred had eyed Remus with a suspicious look, much to his chagrin. Mina and Sirius had joined them this year as Mina's brother Will had opted to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays [Mina suspected there was a girl he had his eye on] and her parents had decided to vacation alone in Paris. Rowan had invited Peter to bring his mother, but he'd insisted that they were going to visit relatives in Scotland. She felt bad that they were all gathered without him, but she tried not to dwell on it.<p>

After dinner, the party gathered in the living room like the year before, though the gathering was less raucous this year since her father was no longer there encouraging everyone to drink. Rowan looked at his old chair longingly, imagining his gruff laugh and his proud gaze. Just a year before, she'd sat at his feet, listening to him, Lyall and Alfred sharing jokes drunkenly. The house suddenly seemed much too quiet.

"We should go outside and play in the snow!" James suddenly suggested.

Rowan looked up to see her friend suddenly in front of her, pulling her up by the arm from her seat. He smiled at her knowingly, and Rowan understood with a dull ache that he'd read her sad expressions. She felt her throat tighten momentarily with gratitude before she beamed at him.

"Team Pottacroix?" she suggested excitedly. James' face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"_Yes! Let's go!"_ he shouted, running for the door. He grabbed Sirius and Mina by the hand, yanking them from their seats.

"James, no!" Mina protested. Sirius' cheering could be heard echoing down the hall, but in a moment, they were gone.

Julia Potter rolled her eyes at the boys' antics and stood slowly from the couch. "I swear those boys still have the minds of six year-olds," she said, standing to her feet.

"I'll get the towels. You can start heating up the milk," Alfred said exasperatedly to Carole, stalking from the room.

"Lyall, would you care for a drink in the kitchen? We have an excellent bottle of brandy I've been saving for a special occasion," Carole suggested gracefully. Lyall smiled warmly and stood.

"That sounds lovely," he said, following her out. Lily stood with him.

"Lil, you're not coming?" Rowan asked incredulously. Lily smiled but shook her head.

"No, I'm feeling a little under the weather. I don't want to risk a cold," she said ruefully. Rowan pouted, and Lily apologized again before following Carole and Lyall out. Rowan thought suspiciously she moved a little too quickly for someone concerned about sickness.

"Rowan, the gloves and shovels are in the closet by the back door," she called over her shoulder as she exited the room.

Remus stood and joined Rowan, following the adults out. "Team Potta-what?" he asked confusedly. Rowan simply grinned at his wary expression, grabbing his hand and pulling him outside to join their friends.

* * *

><p>A long high-pitched shriek rang through the night air. It echoed between the trees' black branches, which slouched over the night against the dark sky. The thick blanket of snow glowed an eerie blue in the moonlight.<p>

"BOOM!"

James cackled maniacally as his snowball collided with Sirius' face with a loud crunch, but his laughter was cut short, dissolving into a series of girly shrieks, as he was assaulted by a wave of flying snowballs. Mina stood from behind Fort Lusurack with her wand brandished, a barrage of snowballs firing at James from what looked like a snow Gatling gun.

"_Protego!"_ Rowan shouted, a shield spreading in front of her teammate. "Get back to the fort, you stupid prat!" she screamed at James. He scrambled backwards behind their barricades, tripping slightly over his boots.

Rowan could see her breath in the cold night air as she listened carefully, crouching low behind their fort. A few incantations could be heard from the other team, and Rowan recognized the low tones as belonging to Remus. Her chest tightened anxiously – he would undoubtedly attack with something inventive – and risked a glance from above the wall. However, the anticipated attack came not from in front, but behind her.

A giant snowy squid erupted from the ground like the sea, tentacles flailing wildly. She shrieked with surprise and dove out of the way as the squid whipped and speared through their walls. Its tentacles drove sharply through their barricades, whipping the snow up in a flurry.

"_Stupefy!"_ James shouted. A beam of red light shot at the squid. It screamed high and noisily, bursting into a large pile of snow.

James guffawed. "Amateur! Take this!" he cried, pointing his wand at the snow in the trees above. The snow began to swirl and contort until a giant, sparkling white owl took form. It swooped down over Remus and Mina's heads dropping – Rowan gaped in disbelief – dung in the form of snowballs.

"_James, you little shit!"_ Mina shrieked. James cackled grandly, his loud guffaws echoing between the trees.

But suddenly, his laughter was cut short as a giant snowy bear suddenly charged through the wall at his end with arms and paws flailing. He disappeared beneath a roaring wave of sparkling white powder with a muffled scream.

"_Team Lusurack!_" Sirius howled from across the field.

"Jamie!" Rowan cried, diving in after him. She waved her wand widely, pushing the snow back and off of them, quickly rebuilding the wall before Team Lusurack could take it down completely.

"Last resort!" she shouted at James as they scrambled to their feet, hair and clothes completely covered in snow.

"OPERATION MERLIN COMEBACK!" he cried.

The young man jumped over their barricades out into the open, much to the other team's surprise. A wave of snowballs assaulted him. The trio's wands swished and waved with a barrage of snow shooting from their fort, but James stood still taking the brunt of the snow. Instead of dodging, he seemed to be _collecting_ the snow, doing his very best to be hit by all of it.

Rowan remained behind the wall in the meantime. She muttered a series of enchantments at her teammate, wand raised over the walls discreetly. The accumulating snow began to contort and build and grow, covering James completely. Remus' eyes widened in understanding slowly.

"Stop! Cease fire!" he shouted at Mina and Sirius, but it was too late.

A snowy dragon about nine feet tall stood where James had been. It roared deafeningly with feet stomping on the ground, white puffs of snow billowing out from beneath its feet. The snow that remained in the trees above shook and fell around them, only adding to the dragon's volume.

"ATTACK!" Rowan commanded.

The dragon stormed forward with a shriek, stampeding through Fort Lusurack's barriers. The three dodged out of the way as the dragon thrashed and flailed, destroying all the barricades that remained. It howled and roared, blowing snow from its mouth like fire and smoke. Rowan cheered and leapt up from behind Fort Pottacroix with victory.

"WE WIN!" she shouted.

The dragon crumbled with a final roar and wave of snow, and James emerged dizzily, stumbling over himself with an elated grin and coated with white chunks of snow and ice.

"Team Pottacroix!" James cried before tripping over a large pile and falling into the snow. He gave another weak victory cry and then collapsed.

Rowan laughed and danced happily, emerging from behind her fort. But suddenly she saw a large form charging towards her. She shrieked as a barrage of snow rained down on her, followed by a hard chest, and she flew backwards into the snow with a yelp.

When she was sure there was no snow left, she creaked her eyes open and peaked between her arms to see Remus crouching over her with a smirk. His light hair glowed in the blue moonlight, eyes crinkled with mirth.

"Rude," she pouted.

He snorted. "Says you." He pushed her shoulder playfully.

She harrumphed but remained on her back staring up at him. "You're just jealous of my genius."

"Yeah, yeah, so jealous," Remus said, reaching down to pull her up. She took his hand and he yanked her to her feet swiftly, helping her sweep the snow from her clothes and hair. Her stocking-clad legs were quite numb at this point, and she shivered as the adrenaline began to drip away. She'd be grateful for that hot chocolate.

"Operation Merlin Comeback, huh?" Remus asked, smirking at her. Rowan grinned as he patted another tuft of snow from her hair.

"Yeah, brilliant, wasn't it?"

"It was something," he said. "Your idea?"

Rowan nodded. "Yeah, James and I used something like it when we played with the other kids in the area when we were younger, and we never lost. The Fawley brothers hated us," she laughed.

"How did you use that when you couldn't use magic?" Remus asked with confusion.

Rowan grinned. "Well, basically, James would just rush the other team's fort and tackle the shit out of them while I crept up behind with a shovel. This was just a modified version."

Remus stared disbelievingly. "Seriously?" he asked.

Rowan puffed out her chest. "Worked every time," she justified.

She looked over at the other fort to see Sirius and Mina dumping snow on top of James, who had collapsed to the ground on his back. She grinned.

"Should we help him?" she asked.

"Nah, you should probably be more concerned for yourself," Remus said. He then turned towards Rowan and grinned. Rowan saw the look on his face, and her eyes widened.

"No, no, no, Remus, don't!" she cried, but he grabbed her and hauled her over his shoulder with a grunt. The world spun wildly, and she suddenly couldn't find the ground.

"_Seriously?_ Why do you always do this?" she screamed. He just laughed and moved back towards the remains of his team's fort much to Mina and Sirius' entertainment, but just as he was about to dump her in the snow with her comrade, Alfred poked his head out the door.

"Ready to come in yet?" he called.

Rowan cheered, "Hot chocolate!" Her arms flailed against Remus' back.

Remus sighed and tossed her into the pile of snow. She shrieked as she fell into the white powder and looked up to see Mina, Sirius, and Remus running towards the door.

"Jerks!" she shouted after them, before scrambling to her feet. "Come on!" she urged James. She heard him groan from beneath the snow before running after the others.

* * *

><p>"Achoo!"<p>

The five young adults sat in front of the living room fireplace wrapped in heavy towels with mugs full of hot chocolate in their hands. Carole had dried them off as soon as they'd come into the kitchen shivering and soaked, but the chill still remained in their bones and muscles. Rowan's skin burned and prickled from the iciness that remained in her blood and huddled subconsciously towards Remus for warmth. He smiled softly and wrapped an arm around her.

"You all are unbelievable. If you catch sick from this, it's your fault," Julia scolded.

James sniffled slightly but glared. "It was worth it. Team Pottacroix remains undefeated!" he declared. Lily rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him with her own mug.

While they were outside, Alfred had pulled Rowan's albums from her room again and had put the record player on. Her old jazz albums played softly as the older adults laughed and joked amongst themselves over glasses of wine and brandy. Rowan looked around at her friends all huddled on the floor and noted fondly that despite being legal adults, they were still very much like children. She hoped they'd always stay that way.

But then Lily and James stood suddenly from the floor, and James took Lily's hand with a serious look.

"Everyone, we have an announcement to make," James said. He smiled at Lily, who beamed up at him. They seemed to share a silent prayer. Rowan's chest tightened. She knew that look. She'd seen it before. They couldn't be…?

"I'm pregnant!"

Rowan nearly choked on her own lungs.

"Oh my darlings!" Julia cried, leaping from her seat. She rushed forward faster than Rowan had ever seen her move and swooped the two into her arms. The older woman let out a shaky sob and clutched James and Lily to her.

"Oh, a baby! _A baby!_" she cried. She pulled away and held Lily's face in her hands. "Oh, you darling girl! I can't believe… Oh!" She pulled Lily in again and squeezed her tightly. The redhead beamed and hugged her back, laughing happily.

"Congratulations, sweetheart!" Carole exclaimed warmly, moving towards James and hugging him fiercely. He grinned and seemingly engulfed the small woman in his arms. "When are you due?" Carole asked excitedly.

"End of July we think," James said. Lyall and Alfred had also stood and were clapping James on the back.

Rowan snapped from her stupor as realization hit her. A baby! Her heart felt like it had been jolted with electricity. A baby! _James and Lily were going to have a baby!_ She shoved her hot chocolate to the side and leapt to her feet, stumbling over the towel and Remus haphazardly, before throwing her arms around Lily.

"Oh my god!" she squealed. She pulled away and held Lily by the shoulders. The two women beamed at each other, faces lit up with overwhelming joy. She felt that same heated surge of affection that she'd first felt for Lily in those quiet moments over breakfast in the Great Hall as schoolgirls. Rowan squealed and hugged her again. "I'm so, so happy for you! Oh my god, a baby!" She pulled away and then turned towards James, who was grinning at her joyously. She threw herself at her dear friend and felt her chest tremble.

"Oh, Jamie," she croaked. "I can't believe it. Congratulations!" He squeezed her tightly before letting her go. His eyes glowed brightly at her, and she beamed.

"Congrats, mate," Remus said, standing to join them with an elated smile. Sirius and Mina had engulfed Lily, shouting happily around her. James grinned and hugged Remus roughly. Rowan watched the two with happiness bursting from her veins. Every semblance of the cold winter was completely gone. She felt as if she could heat all of Gryffindor Tower with her joy.

As Remus moved towards Lily to hug her as well, James pulled Rowan to the side a bit and gave her a burning look. "You'll be godmother, won't you?" he asked quietly.

Rowan thought her heart might explode. James gazed at her earnestly, brown eyes glowing with excitement. Her eyes stung with tears, but she swallowed them down and smiled with as much sincerity as she could muster.

"Are you kidding? Do you even have to ask?" she rushed. James beamed and hugged her tightly again. Rowan wanted to scream with joy, but she kept her rambling words of thanks to a quiet whisper. She didn't want to make this about her.

As they moved back towards the others, Rowan watched James wrap his arms around Lily. She thought of the protective looks Arthur gave Molly and her heart clenched with affection. Was it possible to find one's soul mate? Surely, James and Lily were if such a thing truly existed. She felt a dull ache of envy and wondered if she'd ever have that sort of happiness.

She scanned over Lily's belly. She couldn't see any noticeable bump yet, but soon - _soon!_ A summer baby just like her… would it be a boy or a girl? Would it look like James or Lily? And she was going to be godmother! Her mind suddenly swam with images of a laughing infant, of chasing after a tiny version of James.

She was suddenly struck with a pang of sadness. She wouldn't be having children anytime soon - not that she thought she was ready - but she had hoped that hers and James' children would grow up playing together in the same way she and James had. James' child would undoubtedly be much older than Rowan's, and though they'd probably retain that sibling-like relationship, it wouldn't really be the same.

A hand suddenly grasped hers, and she looked up to see Remus smiling down at her gently. He squeezed her hand and gazed at her with an overwhelming sense of warmth. She felt her face melt into a smile, and she squeezed back.

* * *

><p>As the night went on, many toasts were made and even a few tears were shed from Julia and Carole. In the dark days they were in, the news of a new life was welcomed with an incredible sense of joy. Everyone felt a surge of hope at the thought of a baby – perhaps it would be friends with Molly and Arthur's child. Rowan looked at Mina and Sirius and wondered if they would marry anytime soon as well. She smiled and thought of the children they'd produce. She smirked to herself – any children they had together would probably be too beautiful for the eyes of mere mortals. They'd certainly have to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn't get into too much trouble.<p>

But the fear in Rowan's heart began to creep back out. She looked down thoughtfully at Remus' hand that was laced with hers. When he'd asked her to be with him again, he'd said that he wanted to share his life with her in all ways – did that mean he wanted to get married now? She hadn't bothered to ask - there had been no point, since she'd assumed he would just leave again. It'd been a while since she'd even thought of marriage – she'd pushed it from her mind completely after Remus had left her. The question suddenly burned into her mind painfully.

But the rest of the evening passed happily with lots of laughter and music, and by the time they left, it was quite late. As Rowan hugged her mother and Alfred goodnight as the last to leave after helping to clean up, she gazed around her childhood home and wondered when she'd be able to bring a grandchild home for her mother. She wondered achingly if it'd be with Remus.

The two stepped out into the cold night and Rowan gazed up thoughtfully at the sky. The moon was beginning to wax, though the full moon was still off by a couple of weeks. She was still so far from achieving her goal. Would marriage even be a feasible possibility before she reached it?

"Rowan."

She looked up to see Remus gazing down at her thoughtfully. She shook herself mentally and forced a smile.

"Hm?"

Remus frowned but didn't say anything. His fingers squeezed hers tightly, questioningly, but she maintained her smile. Her stomach clenched nervously, but she held his gaze. She hoped he'd buy it.

"How many children do you want?"

Rowan's heart stopped. She gaped at him openly. Children? Her lungs felt like they were imploding, collapsing in on themselves painfully with the frigid air. He couldn't possibly mean…

Remus smiled gently and lifted a hand to her face. His fingers were warm in the icy chill of the night. They felt so large against her face.

"Breathe," he whispered. She inhaled raggedly, chest clenching painfully. She couldn't believe he'd just asked her that. This wasn't some joke. He would never be so cruel, would he?

"I think I'd like two," he mused. His smile remained, twisting with mild amusement. "They'll be younger than James and Lily's but maybe Sirius and Mina will have kids around the same age as ours."

Rowan's lips trembled. Her eyes stung hotly as his fingers slid into her hair.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly, bringing her face in closer to his. She could see every glowing scar on his face, every speckle of brown in his green eyes, even in the dark. There was so much sincerity, so much warmth – if this was a dream, it was the cruelest trick her mind had ever played on her.

"You can't be serious," she whispered. She searched his face rapidly, looking for even the slightest indication of doubt. There was none.

He smiled. "Like the dead." Her lips began to tremble.

Her eyes stung with tears. She blinked rapidly, hoping to swallow them down. She couldn't believe this was truly happening.

"I'd like twins," she croaked. Her tears finally spilled over as the words seemed to take form. Her mind was filled with images of precocious little boys like Bill Weasley with Remus' kind eyes. Would they have her smile or his? Her face burned.

"Not anytime soon though! I still have a lot to do before then!" she clarified hurriedly. Remus smiled broadly and leaned his forehead against hers.

"But someday," he said softly. She nodded jerkily against him and hiccoughed slightly. He thumbed the few tears away, and she breathed deeply, calming her seizing lungs.

A family with this man – could such a future really be possible? The very idea seemed ludicrous - she thought she'd accepted long ago that it'd never happen - but the small hum of hope that had been thrumming deep within her for the past month and a half began to sing deafeningly. She clung to him with clenching fingers, gripping at his waist desperately. How had this happened? How had she lost? Her head swam with the realization. It was too cruel. She wanted to laugh at the irony of it all.

"I love you," she whispered. The words spilled from her lips like a fountain had burst in her chest.

Remus' answering smile was bright enough to light all of London.


	45. Of the Act of Giving

**A/N**: THE LONG AWAITED **RATED M** CHAPTER. PRAISE ME, FOR I AM GOOD TO YOU. It's a long one too. I even made it extra special and dirty because you all have been so patient.

**Reviewers!**Once again, I am in a rush as I'm still away, but I felt bad for making you wait. Thanks so much for all the reviews! I'm so happy you all enjoyed the last one. Things will be getting exciting again soon!

**Like-a-Slasher-Film:** Thank you SO MUCH. I can't tell you how flattered and thrilled I am that you've enjoyed my story so much. I'm sorry for the emotional rollercoaster, but I'm really happy you understand where I'm coming from with Remus and Rowan's turbulence. I'm definitely of the opinion that happiness needs to be found within one's self first before it can be found with another. I'm afraid I might break your heart again, but I promise it'll be worth it! Thank you again!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 45: Of the Act of Giving<strong>

Rowan woke slowly to the bright white light of Christmas morning. She curled into the covers at the bright red glow behind her eyelids, rolling over to bury her face in the crook of Remus' arm.

But he wasn't there.

She shot up out of bed and looked around frantically. The space beside her was totally empty with no remnants of his heat – when had he left? The air was cold as the covers fell away, and a shot of ice sprang from her feet as she placed them on the wooden floor. He was gone.

As Rowan felt her stomach seize with panic, she breathed deeply and buried her face in her hands. _Calm down_, she thought. _There's an explanation for this. You're overreacting._ She took another deep breath and rubbed her eyes blearily, the darkness behind her hands soothing. She took another breath and then opened her eyes again, assessing her apartment evenly.

Rowan noted with a huge sigh of relief that his clothes from the night before still remained hung over her chair – he'd be back. But where had he gone? She glanced over at her clock. It read 10:05. She sighed again and decided it was about time for her to get up anyway. She grit her teeth and threw the covers off, heading for the bathroom and then the kitchen. She'd make some tea. Remus might want something warm to drink when he got back.

* * *

><p>Remus walked briskly down Rowan's street, eyes squinting against the blinding white winter light that burst from the sparkling snow. He thanked the city for shoveling the sidewalks, for there had been a heavy snowfall a few days prior, and his legs were already slightly sore from the intense snowball fight from the night before. He smirked to himself – it was more of a <em>battle<em>, really.

He had woken early, around 7:30, to the soft sounds of Rowan's breathing and her body pressed tightly against his, and his body had responded rudely in kind. He had done his best to quell his urges, rolling away from her and even sitting on the cold floor for a bit, but it was growing harder and harder to not just reach over and_ touch her_.

It had been three and half months now since she'd begun to humor his attempts at courting her again, and he'd finally made a breakthrough the month before. And last night! His body stirred at the memory of the soft sounds she'd made in her room, the way she'd pushed back against him, wordlessly asking for more. He didn't want to push her when she was already setting aside her numerous fears to try and give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was becoming so _difficult_ to not press her against any surface he could find and just _take her._

He smiled again with his chest bursting with sparks as he recalled the rest of the night. She'd finally told him that she loved him again. He was so ecstatic with the fire in his blood that he could punch something. He thought of the way her eyes had glowed so disbelievingly, the way her entire face had lit up like the sun, and her quiet confession. It had taken all of his self-control to not totally overwhelm her with his affections.

Since Halloween, he'd been considering what she'd told him about lycanthropic reproduction, and he admitted to himself with some embarrassment that he truly knew very little about the research done on his own kind. He'd spent some time since then going through the literature to see the data with his own eyes, and she'd been right – there had been no evidence that his condition could be passed on to a child. The realization had completely sucked his breath away.

The implications of this newfound knowledge had washed over him slowly over the past couple of months, and soon, he'd found himself staring at Rowan wistfully, thinking of her with the Weasley boys in her arms, with their small faces filled with adoration for her. He imagined them instead with her dark hair and bright smiles, and suddenly, he realized that he wanted to be the man to give her that family more than anything.

So when James and Lily had announced their pregnancy, all the images of his secret reveries came surging to mind, and as he'd watched Rowan's eyes falter quietly with some sadness – undoubtedly questioning whether she'd ever have that as well – he'd understood that it was time to make that next commitment. He'd make his intentions known.

She'd been a vision of happiness, and he mused that his every happy moment after would be filled with the image of her teary smile, the way she'd clung to him desperately in the dark, as if trying to convince herself that it was all real. As they'd walked down her street after Apparating back into London, he'd grabbed her several times to kiss her breathless, and her laughter had echoed through the empty snowy streets. It had never sounded so wonderful.

But despite the need that still lingered in his loins from their interlude earlier that evening, he hadn't pushed her to make _another_ step with him. He'd been somewhat hopeful as she'd pulled him up into her flat, but she'd fallen asleep pressed against him, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. He'd laid awake a little longer, just appreciating the blue glow of night on her cheek and the warmth of her form melded into his. And as he'd fallen asleep, he didn't think it was possible to be happier.

But that didn't mean he didn't want her to want him. He was beginning to wonder how long he'd be able to handle being so physically close to her without really touching her. In his nights alone, he'd imagine the ways she used to say his name and writhe beneath him, above him – the way her muscles would squeeze him tightly as he brought her to completion. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, the pressure of his hand paled in comparison to the rhythmic clench of her body, the feeling of her skin burning against his. It was becoming too much for him to handle, and after the night before – after feeling her leg draped over his waist again and hips pushing against him – he had desperately needed some sort of release.

And so he'd given up and thrown himself into the cold outside. He felt immensely guilty for leaving her in bed alone, but it was better than embarrassing himself or overwhelming her with his physical needs when she clearly still wasn't ready. He'd even jogged a few blocks, lungs searing with the frigid winter air, just to keep his body occupied. It was enough to distract himself from his more pressing urges, and as he walked back, hands gripping a bag of fresh pastries for him and Rowan, he was feeling more confident that he could control himself.

* * *

><p>Rowan jumped as she heard the key in her door turn, and she spun around from the kettle on the stove to see Remus standing in the doorway with reddened cheeks from the cold, a large paper bag, and a bright smile. She'd known that he'd return, but she still felt her lungs fill with relief all the same.<p>

"Sorry for disappearing," he said sheepishly, moving in and closing the door behind him. "I was craving a croissant. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your keys." He moved towards the table, setting both the bag and keys down and then pulling his coat off. He shook his head like a dog, his hair flopping around and releasing a small cloud of snow. The boyish grin he shot her as he hung his coat over his chair sent a surge of heat through her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"No, not at all," she said. "Good timing too." She pulled the kettle off the stove and began pouring the boiling water into her teapot. The heat hit her face soothingly.

She felt a heavy pressure hit her back as Remus' arms wrapped around her waist. "Good morning," he murmured against her neck. His words grazed over her hotly, and she shook herself mentally at the inappropriate ache that shot through her. She turned in his arms to face him and snaked her arms around his neck and smiled.

"Good morning."

He smiled gently at her, effectively melting away any doubts that had crept into her mind earlier. She glanced past him and saw her keys on the table, suddenly reminding her of something with a slight blush. Remus arched a questioning eyebrow at her, and she grinned shyly. "Let's do presents first," she said excitedly.

Remus laughed softly and swooped down with a swift kiss before releasing her and moving to his coat pocket. She bounced away towards her nightstand and pulled one of the smallest gift boxes Remus had ever seen. It was even smaller than her tiny palms. He arched a brow at her again, but she just blushed and smiled coquettishly. The expression was incredibly endearing. He had to stop himself from kissing her again.

They sat on her bed across from each other with their respective presents in their laps. Remus mused that Rowan looked like she might burst.

"You first," she rushed breathily.

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair nervously as she glanced down at the small package in his hand. Rowan's eyes scanned over it excitedly. It looked like a book, but if Remus was giving it to her, it was probably very special. He was always a thoughtful gift-giver – she'd loved each gift he'd given her over the years, even when they'd just been friends. She bubbled as he handed it to her, trying her best to not grin as she carefully pulled the silver wrapping paper from it.

It was indeed a book, but there was no title, no cover image. The cover and binding were completely blank, a deep shade of scarlet leather. She looked at it questioningly then up at Remus, who was watching her carefully. She flipped through the pages – empty.

"What does it do?" she asked.

"It's a conjoined diary," he explained quietly. "I have the same one. Everything either of us writes in it will be seen by the other, so even if we're apart for whatever reason, we can still communicate through this." He eyed her cautiously with a nervous expression.

Rowan slid her hands over an open page, feeling the smooth feeling of the paper inside. She flipped it to the first page and saw Remus' small, elegant script: _For Rowan, my favorite subject._

Rowan felt that distant cracking again deep inside of her as she gripped the soft leather book in her hands. She grazed her fingers idly over the smooth ink and cherished the way Remus had written her name. She glanced up to see him chewing his lip in his worried way with brows furrowed. She held the book tighter, as if she were holding a piece of him, and she smiled.

"I love it. I love you," she said sincerely.

Relief melted over Remus' face. He smiled brightly at her, and she leaned forward on her hands and knees, kissing him softly. He sighed happily against her, and as she pulled away, his eyes glowed with contentment. She sat back down and grasped her own tiny box, her shyness returning.

"I actually have two for you," she said, smiling nervously. Remus grinned.

"Really? Is that the first?" he asked, gesturing to the tiny package. Rowan fiddled with it and nodded, handing it to him nervously.

Remus noted that the box was extremely light. He shook it experimentally and heard something hard thud. His face screwed up with confusion, and Rowan grinned with anxious excitement. He turned it over in his hands before peeling the red metallic paper away. The box was of plain white cardboard – a tiny box with a lid. He pulled the lid away to reveal a lone key. His brow furrowed with confusion momentarily before his eyes widened with understanding.

He looked up questioningly to see Rowan chewing her lip nervously with a shy smile. "So you don't have to wait for me to come home anymore," she explained quietly.

Rowan thought her heart might burst at Remus' answering smile. He closed the box quickly and tossed it to the side. He grabbed her face quickly, kissing her soundly and silencing her laughter. She gripped his knees for balance, and his fingers tangled in her hair.

"I love you," he murmured against her lips. "I love you." She laughed and twisted her face away. His mouth trailed over her cheek and jaw.

"You still haven't seen the second present!" she laughed, peeling him off of her. He pulled away with excitement.

"What is it?" he asked.

Rowan smiled shyly, her chest clenching nervously. She crawled towards him on hands and knees slowly and pushed him back gently onto the bed. Remus' eyes widened with disbelief as his back then his head hit the mattress. She grinned at the surprise on his features before crawling onto his lap and straddling him, grinding her pelvis into his. He gasped, and his hands shot to her hips instinctively.

"Me."

Remus' eyes were still wide, as if expecting to wake at any moment. "Is this really happening?" he whispered.

Rowan laughed softly and leaned down, capturing his mouth. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip, gripping her tightly, disbelievingly. Rowan felt her muscles clench in response, and she sat up and experimentally thrust her hips forward. He let out a choked gasp before trying to sit up and pull her towards him. She grinned and pushed him back down quickly, much to his shock and confusion.

"Rowan, I-" he protested.

"Let me," she said softly, leaning forward to kiss him.

She kissed him slowly, letting the heat between them build. His hands tangled in her hair and scored down her back, gripping desperately at her shirt. She could feel him hardening rapidly against her, but she wanted to take this slowly. She wanted it to count. She traced his lips with her tongue teasingly, and he opened his mouth to tangle his with hers beseechingly. He kissed her roughly, begging her to go faster, but she just smiled into the kiss, keeping her steady tempo.

She moved to his jaw, scraping her teeth against the sharp angle there, pulling a sharp intake of breath from him. She grinned against his skin as she moved to his neck, her tongue teasing at the point right below his ear. She felt him tense beneath her, his hands suddenly squeezing her rear desperately. She moaned low against his neck, letting her voice vibrate through him. He groaned in response and pulled her against him roughly, thrusting his hips upward. She gasped slightly at the feeling but maintained control. She would set the pace today.

"I wanted to show you how grateful I am," she whispered, trailing her lips to his collarbone. She reached up and tangled a hand in his hair, pulling his head back gently to expose more of his neck to her. He gasped as she sucked at the sensitive spot beneath his jaw line around his pulse, and his hands seared through the flannel pants she still wore.

"You've been so patient with me, even though I know how badly you've been wanting this," she continued, rocking her hips against him for emphasis. She scraped her nails across his scalp and down his chest through his shirt. His breath was coming raggedly now.

"Anything for you," he whispered.

Rowan's heart clenched, and she sat up quickly, bringing him with her. She tore at his shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. He moved frantically with her, throwing it to the side before groping for hers. She quickly grabbed his hands and pushed him back with her weight again.

"Rowan, come on!" he growled.

She simply grinned and shook her head. "Not yet," she teased. "We have all day."

He glared but obeyed, keeping his hands on her thighs, squeezing and kneading her desperately. She kissed him again deeply before pulling away and sitting back up.

As she slid her hands down his chest and stomach, Rowan admired the long white scars that trailed across his skin. There were a few new nicks and cuts along his forearms and stomach that she didn't recognize, and she felt heat flare in her chest in response. She wanted to memorize each new mark she didn't know, wanted to engrave each of his scars into her own skin. She grazed her fingers along the longest scar that ran across his chest then scraped her nails lightly down his chest and over his nipple. He hissed softly, his hands gripping her thighs almost painfully, and gazed up at her with a dark promise. She bit her lip and held his gaze, rocking her hips against him again. Rowan grinned at the groan Remus emitted.

"Rowan, please," he begged. "I want to touch you." She shook her head and reached down, peeling his hands from her thighs. His eyes widened with horror, but as he was about to protest, she cut him off.

"Just watch," she whispered.

When she knew that he wouldn't move his hands, she reached for the hem of her shirt slowly, keeping her gaze steady with his. He seemed to melt with desperation as she pulled the bottom of her shirt up painfully slow, trailing her fingers over her skin as she went. When she reached her breasts, she smiled knowingly at him, grazing over her nipples with a small gasp. She threw her head back and rocked her hips against him.

"Oh god," he groaned. His hands gripped at the sheets.

She pulled the shirt over her head with a cascade of her dark hair falling against her. Remus looked like he could cry with desperation and happiness all at once.

"Rowan, please, let me touch you," he begged.

"Not yet!" she teased softly.

He groaned in frustration, but it quickly dissolved into a guttural choking gasp as she gripped him through his pants. She slid her hand up his length through the material and watched his head fall back with a surge of pride. She slipped a few fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs and began to pull them down, moving off of him. Remus quickly reached down to help, shoving them down in a rush. She laughed softly at his eagerness as he kicked the material away, then pushed his hands to the side again.

The burning ache scored through her as she saw the evidence of his arousal. It had been so long since she'd seen all of him. She'd nearly forgotten how beautiful he was, how long his arms and legs were, how the muscles in his stomach and hips clenched as she touched him. She wanted more than anything to feel him inside of her again, but she'd set a plan for herself and was determined to see it through.

She grasped him in her hand, gently running her palm over his length. He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as he watched her, propped up on his elbows now. She moved back between his legs and slid her hand over the head slowly, spreading the fluids that had already begun to leak over him. He groaned, head falling back slightly. She chewed her lip with anticipation as she thought of how he used to push inside of her, how fully he stretched her. She wanted to see him unravel with her name on his lips.

Before he could fight her, she leaned down and took him into her mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive head. She heard him choke on a broken form of her name, and her head swam with pride. She slid him further into her mouth as she reached down to grasp him at the base. Her other hand gripped his hip for support, pushing him further into her mouth wetly. He groaned deeply and she hummed with approval, letting the vibrations of her throat sear through him.

She set a slow but steady rhythm, enough to pleasure him but not enough to let him finish. His hips flexed and jerked against her, and her own muscles clenched in response. She knew she was already wet without him even touching her. She kept herself from reaching down and touching herself, focusing all of her attention on him. When she felt him begin to tremble, she looked up and saw him watching her with the hungriest expression she'd ever seen, lips parted slightly and panting. She held his gaze and took him in deeply, hitting the back of her throat.

And then she was being pulled up his body roughly with tearing hands and harsh breath. She realized weakly that he was tearing her pants down her legs, and then she was in his lap, her wetness pressed against him hotly. Her mouth was being scored with tongue and teeth, and all she could do was whimper as his hands pulled and squeezed at every part of her. His mouth was suddenly on her breasts, sucking at her nipples roughly. She cried out as his tongue flicked her, and he growled deeply against her skin.

His hands were squeezing and kneading her ass, pulling her against him so that his length was pressing against her entrance. She cried out against as he ground himself against her clit, and he groaned against her lips. Before she could stop herself, she was guiding him with shaking hands as he pushed into her, and as he buried himself inside of her she saw stars.

Her entire body shook with pleasure. She gripped at his back desperately as he held her against him, trembling slightly, panting harshly against her neck. He didn't give her a moment to adjust to him, however. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, slamming her hips down against him roughly. His hands held her tightly, almost painfully so, and she dug her fingernails into his back.

He was so much bigger than she'd remembered, stretching her fully with each jerk of the hips. She cried out with each thrust as she bounced on his cock, gripping his shoulders desperately as he took her. She felt her nipples graze against his chest sensitively as he held her against him, slamming her hips down onto him. His hands were everywhere – searing up her back, over her thighs, in her hair. He kissed her possessively as she rode him. She was vaguely grateful that he held onto her so tightly, for she couldn't figure out which way was up or down. All she could focus on was his overwhelming heat, the feeling of his length inside of her, and the pressure that was quickly building.

She knew he could tell how close she was. He held her gaze darkly as he thrust up into her and squeezed a hand between them to rub her sensitive spot. She cried out and felt her muscles begin to quiver. She realized it wouldn't take much longer to find her climax.

"Remus, I'm so close," she panted desperately.

Remus' eyes flared. "Yes, come on. _Let me hear you_," he growled.

He thrust hard into her again and again, and her muscles clenched down on him, squeezing him tightly as she came hard. She cried out loudly as she jerked and trembled against him, clutching his shoulders desperately. It seemed to go on and on, and as she felt him finish inside of her hotly with her name tearing from his lips in a choking gasp, they collapsed together in a heap of panting limbs.

Rowan breathed deeply as she tried to steady her racing heart. She was so warm. She closed her eyes and could almost believe that it was spring. She noted the wetness that remained between her legs with satisfaction. The man beside her was hers, his hands still wrapped tightly against her waist. She breathed in his scent deeply as she rested her head against his chest, savoring the memories it evoked. He was solid beneath her hands, warm against her skin. He was really, truly there.

She felt him begin to stir and let him roll her over onto her back. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him calmly. His eyes glowed happily with a gentle smile. He leaned down to kiss her slowly, letting the heat between them linger. When he pulled away, Rowan was sure her body would melt away.

"I love you," he whispered.

Rowan smiled and lifted her hand slowly to comb through his hair. She admired the silver that salted his brown hair and thought to herself that he looked very much like a man now.

"I love you," she breathed back.

He smiled softly, eyes trailing over her face. His hands danced at her waist, and she made no effort to hide herself, feeling extremely comfortable in her own skin. His smile broadened, and he squeezed her breast playfully. She laughed and swatted his hand away, but he grinned and pinned her wrist down, rubbing his face against her chest with a satisfied groan. She squealed at his sudden perversion and wrestled against him.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to touch you like this again," he groaned, mouth slightly muffled as he pressed it against her skin. She laughed delightedly and pushed him away. He grinned at the light blush on her cheeks before scraping his gaze down her form with deep admiration.

"I didn't know you could be so sexy," he said teasingly. "You stripping for me while on top… holy shit. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven," he sighed. "You don't know how many times I fantasized about you doing something like that this past year."

Rowan grinned. "You fantasized about me?" she asked slowly.

Remus looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Are you kidding? Everyday probably since we were 15," he said. He sighed wistfully. "Never came close to the real thing though. I mean my god..."

Rowan laughed and admired his lean form, tracing her fingers over the definition in his arms. She laid on her side and slid her hand up his arm teasingly, nails scraping over his scars.

"Tell me what you'd fantasize about," she urged quietly.

Remus looked at her with a dark expression before grinning slowly. He ran his hand gently down her spine. She shivered lightly at the feeling and smiled up at him, trailing her fingers from his shoulder down his chest.

"You tell me first. Did you think of me too?" Remus asked quietly.

She could see the burning expression behind his eyes and knew he'd wondered about her while they'd been apart. She had told him that she and Barty had never done anything, but she was beginning to realize how much it had bothered him to see them together. She wondered if it still haunted him even now.

She smiled. "Maybe," she teased. She brushed her thumb over his nipple, and he shivered, gaze darkening. She inhaled sharply as his nails dug into her back lightly, scratching over her skin.

"Tell me," he breathed. He lowered his head and ghosted his lips over hers teasingly, pushing her back again. She gasped as she felt his fingers whisper at the underside of her breast. He teased her again by sliding his fingertips along the curve and upward, coming close to her peak but never touching her where she was most sensitive. He grinned at the light frustration that began to appear on her features.

"Did you ever touch yourself while thinking of me?" he whispered against her lips. He teased the corner of her mouth with his tongue, then flicked her nipple lightly with his thumb. She gasped, arching up against his hand, but he pulled it away.

"Yes," she admitted breathlessly.

He grinned and kissed her lightly. She tried to reach up to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away again. She growled in frustration, but he continued to tease her, flicking her nipple again lightly then grazing the curve of her breast with his callused fingers.

"How?" he asked.

Rowan looked up at him with her face burning. They'd always enjoyed dirty talk in bed, but this was new. He continued to touch her teasingly with that smug grin. She knew she'd have to give him something before he'd continue.

"I'd touch my breasts first," she whispered, holding his gaze steadily. The heat in his eyes flared.

"And what did you think about?" he breathed. He slid his fingers between her breasts slowly. She savored the feeling.

"I'd think of your mouth." His lips pressed against hers again, firmly this time. He slid his mouth languorously against hers, and she sighed into the kiss. But then he pulled away again.

"What about it?" he asked quietly. He traced the underside of her breast again teasingly.

"Your tongue," she gasped as he flicked her nipple again. "Your tongue and your lips… They're so good."

"Where did you want them?" he whispered against her lips. Rowan tangled her fingers in his hair, begging him to kiss her fully, but he wouldn't budge. He just grinned and shifted slightly, smiling against her cheek.

She breathed deeply with frustration, battling with what she should tell him. She didn't know why she was so embarrassed – he'd teased her countless times before – but this was different. Speaking so explicitly seemed so intimate, so shameless. Her entire body burned.

He slid down her body, dragging his lips and teeth along the sensitive skin of her throat and chest. She gasped as he grazed the curve of her breasts with his lips. She could feel his breath over her nipples, but he held himself a couple inches away from touching her. Her entire body ached.

"Remus, please," she whispered, grasping his shoulder beseechingly. He grinned, his fingers dancing along her ribs. She trembled.

"You have to tell me what you want," he said darkly. His eyes burned into her. "Where did you want my mouth?"

"There. Please!" she begged, gripping his hair almost violently. He laughed softly at her wantonness and lowered his head to her breasts, taking her nipple into his mouth.

Rowan's entire body burned. She felt the heat shoot straight to her core as Remus licked and sucked at her breasts, fingers gently grazing and pulling at her skin. She panted and whimpered as his tongue trailed down her stomach and over her ribs, hands scalding down her sides and over her hips.

"What else did you imagine?" he murmured. His voice rumbled deeply against the dip of her pelvis, and she gasped as he pushed her thighs apart slowly, settling himself between them. She was so exposed, and he made it a point to emphasize it. He grinned roguishly up at her with his mouth dangerously close to her most sensitive places. She thought her face might burn. She had to avert her eyes or else she might implode.

"You'd touch me there," she whispered, avoiding his gaze. He was overwhelming her.

His fingers trailed over the seam where her thighs met her hips, and she gasped, choking on her own lungs. She didn't even have to look at him to know he was smirking at her.

"Here?" he asked softly.

She shook her head minutely.

His fingers grazed gently, calluses scraping along her sensitized skin. They danced along her pelvis, dangerously low. The ache was almost unbearable. She whimpered.

"Look at me, Rowan."

She brought her eyes back to his hesitantly to his and thought she might burn away beneath his gaze. He was propped up on his elbows between her thighs, so close to touching her and yet clearly showing that he wasn't ready to give her what she wanted yet. His hand was splayed against her hip, thumb brushing her hipbone. His expression was predatory.

"I'm not going to touch you until you show me how."

Rowan's lips quivered as she half-heartedly glared at him. He grinned and leaned back. _I'm waiting._

Rowan sat up on her elbows with her face still burning, but she held her chin up defiantly. She spread her legs further so that he had a full view, daring him to look at her. He inhaled sharply at the sight but remained propped on his elbows. His gaze pierced through her.

"Show me," he breathed. The deep note of his voice sent heat shooting through her.

She raised her hand hesitantly and downward slowly, scalding down her stomach until she reached her hips. His eyes followed the simple movement with deep rapture.

"I'd imagine you here," she whispered.

The heat in his gaze flickered. "And what would I do?"

Rowan slid a finger slowly up her folds, coating her fingers in the wetness that had already begun to build again. She spread herself slightly for him to see. His nostrils flared with anticipation.

"You'd touch me here," she whispered. She slid her finger over her entrance and then up to her bundle of nerves. She rubbed it gently with her wet fingers and gasped softly, hips trembling. She pushed a finger inside and bit her lip to muffle her voice.

But it escaped anyway unbidden as she felt another hand cover her own, a longer finger pushing into her roughly to join hers. She moaned loudly, her own voice mixed with a low rumbling groan from Remus. He slid his finger back out, pulling hers with it, before sucking her fluids off of both. She could feel his tongue swirl around her finger and his teeth scrape along the sensitive pad of her fingertip. His eyes blazed, and a tremor shot through her hotly as she watched.

Then his mouth was back on her again, and she fell back against the mattress as his tongue darted out, running up the seam of her folds before flicking at her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips jerked up and she shrieked slightly as he sucked on it gently. His tongue teased her relentlessly, hands gripping her thighs tightly, holding her hips in place as she bucked and thrashed. Quickly, her muscles began to tremble, and she knew she was close. She cried out again as he slid a finger into her and pulsed it at that electric spot behind her clitoris. Her muscles collapsed around his finger.

She was coming hard against his mouth, bucking and moaning. He groaned against her, lapping and sucking like a starving man. His fingers gripped her thigh almost painfully. But then as her muscles began to calm, she felt him slide up her body, and he thrust hard into her.

"Fuck!" he hissed. Rowan cried out his name, her muscles clenching again around him.

He didn't move, staying still and trying to get his bearings as the aftershocks of her orgasm settled. He shuddered against her, eyes clenched shut as if savoring every tremble of her hips. When his eyes reopened, his gaze was dark.

"Again," he commanded.

Again, he took her hard, thrusting roughly but purposefully into her. She felt him hit that spot behind her front wall that made her scream over and over again, and all she could do was take him. She cried out loudly as he thrust against that spot again, her hand shooting to her mouth to muffle her voice. Remus' eyes flared, and he reached forward quickly, pulling her hand from her mouth and pinning it down.

"Let me hear you!" he growled. He thrust hard again, and she cried out loudly. He grinned roguishly and continued to take her roughly.

It was too much! She'd already come twice now – how could he expect her to again? Her muscles were already beginning to spasm with the warnings of her next orgasm, but it was overwhelming. Surely, she couldn't come again!

"Remus, I can't! Too much!" she begged brokenly.

"You can!" he growled, thrusting hard into her. She shrieked, hips trembling wildly. His grip on her hips tightened as he sped up, thrusting against that spot mercilessly.

"Say my name," he commanded gruffly. He thrust again.

"Ah, _Remus!_" Rowan cried out. Her head was swimming. She couldn't take this. It was cruel. Her body couldn't withstand this much pleasure.

"Mine," he growled. His eyes burned into her. "Not Barty's, not anyone else's – mine!"

"Yes! Remus!" she begged.

And then her climax hit her hard. She screamed and trembled, hips jerking against his as he shouted out his completion and emptied himself inside of her. She didn't think it would ever end. Her muscles squeezed and tensed and clutched desperately to him. Her entire world went white as she shook, and as she came back down, her hips continued to tremble.

Remus' collapsed on top of her, panting harshly against her chest. She lifted her hands weakly to hold him against her, fingers threading through his hair.

She felt as if every muscle in her body had disconnected. She felt Remus twitch, still inside of her, and smiled softly. She felt a dull ache below as her muscles stretched and adjusted. It had been so long since anyone had touched her there. She sighed happily at the languid feeling of completion that settled into her bones.

Finally, Remus began to stir, struggling to sit up. He propped himself up on his elbows to look at Rowan. She smiled gently at him, which he returned, kissing her softly, slowly. When he pulled away, they both winced slightly at the feeling of him slipping out of her wetly. He stumbled a bit out of the bed, to Rowan's amusement, and grabbed his wand from the table, coming back to help clean up the remnants of their lovemaking. She giggled slightly at the sudden coolness that remained as he vanished away the fluids, and he tossed his wand to the side, grabbing her gently and kissing her again until she was breathless.

She grinned lazily at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked back.

"What're you looking so pleased about?"

Rowan smiled, her eyes struggling to remain open. "We forgot about breakfast," she mumbled.

Remus laughed softly and kissed her again, pulling her in against him tightly. The winter sun spilled in through her window and onto the white sheets of her bed. She sighed sleepily, contentedly, as she felt his hands linger and skim across her skin. She smiled as sleep draped over her again, and she knew happily that the man beside her would be there when she woke.


	46. Of Moving Pawns

**A/N**: Holy crap, y'all are a bunch of perverts. The last chapter already has more views than any other. Are you really just here for the sex?!

A bit of a transitional chapter, but there's some action in it too so **RATED M.**

Thank you to everyone who reviewed while I was away! I'm amazed by how much love the last chapter got haha: **TheStarCalledVega, , MajestyLove56, FallToJupiter, S38, sarahmichellegellarfan1, missalex3030, misslak, CursedDoll!**

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Haaaaa not telling! You'll just have to wait and see!

**S38: **I was wondering where you'd gone! Thanks for coming back and for the awesome review, as always! ^^

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 46: Of Moving Pawns<strong>

Rowan hadn't felt so happy for a long time.

Her relationship with Remus had never been better. After Christmas, they'd resumed their general routine of quiet evenings alone after work, but there was certainly a deeper sense of understanding shared between them. The quiet promise of a future together held Rowan's spirits high. Even as the freshness of their knew dynamic faded slowly with the passing weeks, the thought of a real future with Remus still thrilled her, and she'd frequently caught herself daydreaming in her lab of what time held in store for them.

The Order had been filled with baby mania. Not only were the Weasleys and Potters expecting, Frank and Alice Longbottom had announced that they were also pregnant and expecting at the end of July. Rowan couldn't believe the luck – three babies! She imagined happily the children running around together and then eventually going on to Hogwarts. If all things went according to plan, they'd all be in Gryffindor as well! A huge group of Gryffindor families – it was all too exciting! She sincerely hoped that when she and Remus had children, they'd be around the same age as Sirius and Mina's so that they'd get the same experience too.

However, Rowan couldn't spend much time reveling in her fantasies for the future. Her exam was quickly approaching in the next week, and Death Eater activity had begun to pick up again. When she wasn't studying in her lab, she was doing night patrols with Arthur Weasley in Knockturn Alley. What little free time she had was spent with Remus, and though he'd been disappointed at their lack of time together, he'd understood and given her space to work. She couldn't believe how much he'd really changed.

Towards the end of January, however, her happy mood took a dark turn.

During their weekly meeting, Kingsley and Frank gave a report regarding the recent string of prisoner murders. Another Death Eater had been found dead at the beginning of the month by apparent suicide within his cell at Azkaban after questioning, and all evidence pointed to foul play within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"We think the culprit has been using stolen wands to commit the murders – it must be the Imperius Curse. There's no other way for the suicides to have occurred _within_ Azkaban without outside contact," Frank reasoned.

"Have you found the stolen wands?" asked Arthur down the table.

Frank shook his head. "No, but there's been a recent string in wand thefts, and we've recorded their data. We've tried analyzing the theft victims and wand properties together for similarities, but they seem to have been done at random. Whoever's doing this has been very thorough to cover their tracks. We suspect someone high up within the Death Eater ranks and the MLE Department. And if someone has been Imperiused by _another_ from _outside_ the Department… Well, I don't know if we'll be able to solve this then."

"It's also become a large investment to make arrests with Crouch as the new head. He's beginning to make sentences without trial, and we want to be sure we've got the right culprit before we make the arrest. We can't send an innocent man to Azkaban," Kingsley said gravely.

Around the room erupted murmurs of discontent over Crouch and the investigation. James and Sirius spouted some rude names for Crouch. Moody adamantly wanted to begin secretly tracking and bugging Department members' activities, though that raised several protests of ethics. The attacks had also ceased since the investigation had taken on a more rigorous tone, so there was no guarantee that the murderer would even move again. It seemed very hopeless.

Rowan's mind was a flurry of conflict. She stormed through her memory of everyone she knew at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for anyone that could be remotely suspicious, but the only name that came to mind was Barty Crouch Jr.

Her mind screamed, and her stomach lurched. She couldn't understand why she felt so uneasy at the thought of him – she hadn't seen him since September when she'd ended things with him, though he'd tried to invite her out for lunch on several occasions. He'd never treated her badly or even hinted at beliefs in Pureblood supremacy, and yet her skin crawled as she thought of him.

But should she say something? There was no reasoning for her feelings of ill ease, and she didn't want to place an innocent man under suspicion because of her paranoia. Was it right?

"What about Barty Jr.?"

Rowan looked up to see that the question had come from Mina. She was staring hard at Frank and Kingsley with a quiet fire in her eyes. She rarely spoke in Order discussions, though when she did speak, her comments and contributions were always insightful. Rowan felt a flare of affection for her as she realized that her friend had also felt the same suspicions – she wasn't just being paranoid.

"What about him?" Frank asked carefully.

"I don't trust him," she said darkly. "I've never liked him. All of his friends from Hogwarts have turned out to be Death Eater affiliates, and he has access to all of the prisoners through his position in the department. He also gets special protection because his father's position as Head. If anyone raises red flags, I think it's him."

"No!"

The room turned with shock to face Peter, who seemed to be surprised at his own outburst. His face was pale and hands were shaking, but his gaze was determined. He seemed even thinner now somehow – could his mother's sickness really be taking so much of a toll on him?

"Barty's a good guy," he continued shrilly. "He was with Rowan all the time last year, and her family has always been known as Dumbledore supporters. If he was a Death Eater, he could've hurt her at anytime, but he was always really nice to her!"

Rowan's eyes widened as she thought through his points. It was true – if Barty had been a Death Eater, she could've been in grave danger on several occasions. He could've used her to get into the Order, blackmailed her parents… A chill shot through her stomach.

"But that'd be really incriminating for him too," Mina argued, eyes narrowed. "If Rowan were to suddenly go missing right after befriending Barty, he'd be the primary suspect. He's much too clever for that. If he's a Death Eater, he'd want to use Rowan to access the Order, but he wouldn't have hurt her. That'd be way too obvious."

Murmurs erupted again. McGonagall slammed her gavel against the table to call the room to order. Frank stared hard at Rowan, mouth twitching as he thought. Rowan felt her face burn.

"Well?" he asked her quietly. "What do you think of this argument? Has Crouch ever given you reason to suspect him?"

Everyone turned to stare. Rowan's chest tightened painfully. She kept herself from glancing over at Peter.

"He's never done anything per se to make me feel at risk," she started slowly. "But… there was a conversation last August… It didn't feel right."

Remus' hand squeezed hers under the table. She felt his gaze heavy on her. She squeezed back.

"He started asking me questions about the Order, as if he knew I was a member. I know a lot of the Ministry assumes that I am, but I've never had anyone confront me about it. He told me he wanted to be involved.

"But there was something off… There were times when I was with him when things just didn't feel right, and that was one of them. It's not much to go on but… I don't know. I'm sorry. I feel like I'm not helping much," she said contritely.

But Frank nodded. "No, if your gut is telling you something is off, then we should look into it." He paused to think for a moment. "Have you seen him at all recently?" he asked carefully.

Rowan shook her head. "No, not since the end of August."

Frank nodded and looked concerned, but Kingsley pushed forward.

"Would you be willing to reach out to him again?" he asked gravely.

Rowan's stomach lurched. Remus' hand squeezed hers under the table again, almost painfully. Her mind raced.

"She can't do that! What if he's really a Death Eater? She'd be in so much danger!" James shouted suddenly, rising from his seat. Lily whispered at him to calm down, raising a hand to his shoulder gently. He sat back down slowly, but his eyes still flared with anger.

"If he is a Death Eater, he's made no indication that he'd harm her. I think Mina's right – if he's the one responsible, he's much too clever to put himself at risk by hurting her," Kingsley reasoned.

"Just because he hasn't yet doesn't mean that he won't!" James argued.

"I'll do it," Rowan declared.

"But, Winnie-" James protested.

"I'll be okay, James. Kingsley and Frank will be around if anything happens. I'll be fine," she said. She smiled confidently, though she didn't feel it. She watched him settle back into his seat bristling. He eyed her angrily still but didn't argue. She felt the tension in her shoulders seep away slightly.

She hazarded a glance down the table towards Peter. He was pale and wide-eyed, staring down at his hands in his lap. It was terribly sad. She knew how hard it was for him to speak at meetings, and the one contribution he'd made had been shot down. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him he'd done a good job for speaking his mind. She suddenly felt terribly sorry for arguing against him, even if she'd spoken honestly.

The meeting ended with agreement that the Aurors would keep an eye on Barty Jr. and that they'd meet with Rowan once they figured out a course of action. But as the room shifted to leave, Dumbledore stood.

"Remus, may I have a word with you in private, please?"

Remus' head jerked up with surprise. His hand still held Rowan's. He nodded and then turned back towards her.

"Wait for me. I'll be back in a minute," he whispered. She nodded carefully as she watched him disappear into the living room with the old Headmaster. Her stomach clenched with a terrible sinking feeling. Nothing good could come of a private conversation with Dumbledore.

Rowan sat in the kitchen feeling very uncomfortable in the sudden silence. Her friends had all nodded goodbye to her as they'd left, and she couldn't help but feel strangely awkward sitting at the large empty tables alone.

She thought of Peter and his pale face with some worry. He'd all but leapt to his feet and dashed from the room as soon as the meeting had ended. Had he really been so embarrassed? She had wanted to talk to him, to apologize for some reason, but he'd been gone before she could even formulate her thoughts. She frowned as she thought of the heavy bags beneath his eyes, the thinning of his hair.

Sirius had told her that he was still seeing Eris – a chill crept up her spine as she thought of the strange woman – but she hadn't seen her since that first introduction. He'd seemed so happy back then, looking more confident and healthier than ever. Was she not helping him through his mother's illness? Shouldn't one's girlfriend be offering her support in times of need? She suddenly felt very sour.

Her thoughts trailed back to Remus. She frowned. He'd been gone for about 15 minutes now with Dumbledore. She darkly imagined all the reasons the Headmaster could have called for him personally. Was there a reason to reprimand him? No, Remus' contributions to the Order had always been faultless. She and James were the troublemakers, as always. The only reason she could imagine he'd be needed was for a special mission.

Her stomach clenched. A special mission for just him… The only task he'd be specifically needed for would involve lycanthropes. The number of werewolves amongst Voldemort's supporters had been steadily increasing – it would only make sense that Dumbledore would want to address the threat. What could he be asking Remus to do? Could she let him go? Her hands began to tremble as she thought of him going out alone.

The door creaked, and her head shot up to see Remus entering the kitchen with a dark expression. It looked exactly like the expressions he wore in their Fifth Year after discussing their future plans with McGonagall. She felt her heart hit her throat – she knew her suspicions had been right.

He looked up to see her. She forced a weak smile, but he didn't return it. She stood as he moved forward quickly, and he took her hand in his, pulling her to the door in a rush. She felt herself get swept through Headquarters and out the door. Before she could even think, she was stumbling onto her doorstep, mind drenched with confusion.

* * *

><p>Remus didn't wait for her to pull her key out as he usually did. He unlocked the door to her building himself and yanked her up the stairs in a flurry, and when she finally fell into the apartment with him, his mouth was on hers almost bruisingly.<p>

His lips and teeth scored her mouth, and all she could do was accept his force. She tried desperately to meet his passion, but she was overwhelmed. His hands were tearing her coat from her shoulders and dropping it to the floor, stumbling over his shoes clumsily. He pushed her into the room until her legs hit her bed, where she felt herself lifted with a surprised yelp and dropped onto the surface.

He finally broke away – she gasped for air – only to yank her shirt over her head quickly. His mouth reconnected with her neck, searing down her chest. She whimpered as she felt him knead her breasts almost painfully before moving down to her jeans. He fumbled with erratic fingers as he tore them from her, pushing her backwards onto the bed to pull them down her legs. They caught on her shoes, which still remained on in the frenzy, and he yanked them off violently. Her socks peeled off with the legs of her pants. His hands burned down her legs.

"Remus, wait," she choked as he pulled her back up, mouth burning against hers again. She gasped as she felt his fingers pushing her panties aside roughly, thumb brushing against her sensitive nub. Her hips jerked in response. She wondered with awe at how she could possibly be wet already. His other hand was quickly unbuckling his belt, and then he reached up to yank his jumper over his head. With a few hard tugs, she felt his length pressing up against her thigh.

But then he stopped. She looked up to see him staring down at her with a hard, searching expression. _Is this okay?_

Rowan's chest swelled with affection. She reached up to his face and kissed him deeply then pulled his hips towards her. His grip on her hip tightened, and she cried out as he pushed a couple of fingers into her slowly. She felt herself stretch and clench around him, gripping his shoulders desperately. His gaze darkened hungrily, and he pulled his hand away from her before reaching down positioning himself at her entrance. She held her underwear to the side as he pushed into her. They both groaned as he filled her.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, holding her tightly against him and letting the heat between them build. When he pulled away, his eyes burned into her. She gasped as he pulled out of her – she felt the void achingly – but then he lifted her and dropped her gently farther in. He finished removing his trousers and then crawled in over her, settling between her thighs. Reaching for her hips, he slid her underwear down gently, calluses grazing her legs, before pushing back into her with a choked gasp. She trembled against him.

He made love to her slowly, gently. She ran her palms down his back, letting his heat soak into her and engraving every muscle and line into her memory. He reached up, searing a hand up her arm slowly before pinning it down and threading his fingers with hers. He buried his face in her neck as he thrust into her deeply, and she began to feel her hips tremble with the oncoming waves of her climax.

But he slowed down suddenly, thrusting shallowly. He pulled away from her, sitting up and pushing her legs up to her chest. She felt her peak begin to fall away, and she whimpered in protest.

"Remus," she begged, reaching for him. She felt bereft with his heat suddenly gone.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered, eyes burning into her. He thrust hard. With her legs up, he felt even larger and deeper than usual. She cried out.

"I love you," she gasped.

He thrust again, grinding his hips against her clitoris. "Again," he said desperately. She didn't know who was begging anymore.

"I love you," she sobbed. He thrust hard. She went blind for a moment as her muscles began to clench. "I love you. I love you, Remus. Please!"

Remus panted and thrust hard into her, setting a fast, punishing rhythm. She shrieked as her orgasm hit her suddenly with force. She felt herself tearing at the sheets as she came, crying out broken forms of his name. Her hips bucked and jerked wildly, trapped underneath him as he finished inside of her, gasping silently into the night.

He rocked into her slowly as the last waves of his climax washed over him. Finally, he stilled, relishing the final soft clenches of her body around him before releasing her thighs and pulling himself from her. She gasped as she felt him slip out of her and the sticky remains of their lovemaking between her thighs.

He staggered to his feet, stumbling blindly for his wand.

"Remus," she called weakly. _It can wait_. But he reached around his pants for his wand, hurrying back to her. His brows were furrowed in a tired but anxious expression as he cleaned her up. His eyes skimmed over her body with intense admiration and concern. Her heart clenched at his sudden gentleness.

When he finally crawled back into the bed with her, he reached for her, but instead, she pulled him towards her. He grunted slightly with surprise as he fell forward ungracefully as she cradled his head against her chest. He tensed with shock for a moment before relaxing steadily, wrapping his arms around her waist. His hands gripped her tightly. Her chest tightened as his heat soaked into her. She combed her fingers through his hair gently and held him, hoping that her presence might soothe his worries. For a long stretch - she didn't know how long - they simply laid there in silence.

"Dumbledore wants me to act as an emissary to the werewolves," he finally said softly.

Rowan's stomach lurched, but she kept her voice calm, willing her heart to stop pounding. Could he heart it?

"I figured," she whispered.

"He told me to think about it."

Rowan nodded against him but didn't respond – they both knew he'd go. She savored the feeling of his body pressed against hers. She dreaded letting him go.

"When do you leave?" she finally asked.

"In a few days," he whispered.

He pulled away slowly, propping himself up on one elbow. He looked down at her with a pained expression. It was such a simple movement - a minuscule distance - and yet he suddenly felt so far away.

"If you don't want me to go, I won't," he said.

Rowan smiled weakly. She reached up to brush his hair from his face – it was getting quite long. She scanned over his face - his defined jaw, his cheekbones and scars. She wanted to remember each feature, each line and shadow. Her memory of him would be all that she'd have for a while.

"Of course I don't want you to go," she whispered, "but you have to, right?"

Remus' eyes searched hers, and she held his gaze sadly. Finally, he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I know." She brushed the scar along his jaw with gentle fingers. "But no one else can do this but you, right?"

Remus just held her gaze, guilt spreading over his features slowly. She smiled again and pulled him down to her, kissing him gently. Were his lips the ones that trembled or hers? She tangled her fingers in his hair and hoped that he understood all the thoughts and wishes she was pouring into him. He was such a good man – didn't he know? She broke away from him.

"I love you, and I'll be here waiting for you," she whispered. His grip on her tightened. He leaned his forehead against hers and nodded.

"I'll always come back for you. I promise."


	47. Of Ambitious Endeavors

**A/N**: PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: I got a job! It's in a different city though, so I'll be packing up and moving in the next 2 weeks; however, I've got a lot to do before then, so my updates will be irregular. Once I get settled in, my usual update schedule will resume, but I just wanted to let you all know. Please leave me a review or a PM in the meantime! Thank you, and enjoy!

Also, thank you to **misslak, S38, and saramichellgellarfan1** for the awesome reviews! You guys are the best! Where did everyone else go...?

**jjr797:** Hahahaha no, no, no, I will just say now that there will be no little Lupins running around anytime soon. I think we can assume that Rowan is on wizarding birth control, whatever that may be. Thank you though for the compliments!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 47: Of Ambitious Endeavors<strong>

Rowan stood in the basement of the Ministry's Department of Wizarding Examinations Authority at a long counter with a set of cauldrons and various ingredients in front of her. About ten other wizards and witches stood at identical stations, mostly wizards, all looking extremely nervous. She was the youngest by far – the youngest individual besides her was a young wizard in his mid-20s. They'd all shot her wary looks as she'd walked in and taken her place among them, but she didn't have the energy to consider their opinions. Her stomach was already churning enough without dwelling on what her peers thought of her.

It was five days after the Order meeting, and Remus had left two days before to act as Dumbledore's emissary to the werewolf communities in the north. The night before he left, he'd made love to Rowan slowly and gently, and they'd held each other tightly throughout the night. He left quietly in the early morning hours, just as yellow and red hit the horizon, and he'd kissed her goodbye like a starving man. She had done her best to ignore the sharp ache in her chest as he'd closed the door of her flat behind him.

His mission couldn't have come at a worse time. Two days after he left was the day of her Potioneer Accreditation Test, and she desperately wanted to focus on her last minute studying, but to no avail. She spent the entire day before going through her notes half-heartedly, retaining absolutely nothing, and then giving up and going to bed early, though she laid awake for hours in bed, simply staring up at the ceiling and missing Remus' presence next to her.

But she didn't have time to worry about that now. A tall, gaunt man with downy light hair and a receding hairline stalked into the room, his arm carrying a small stack of parchment. Once he reached the head of the room, he turned and gazed around at them briefly with tired eyes.

"Good morning," he greeted calmly. His gaze was even, his voice mellow and clear. "You will have three hours to complete the practical portion of the exam. You will then have a 15-minute break before beginning the written portion, which will take two hours. Your test-taking quills should be provided, as well as spare notebooks for notes during the practical portion. My name is Isaac D'Este. Please let me know if you have any questions."

He looked up at the clock. Rowan's eyes followed and saw the second hand ticking quickly. _9-8-7…_

"And you may begin… _now."_

With a flourish, he released the cover over the chalkboard in the front, revealing a list of four potions: Draught of Living Death, Shrinking Solution, Veritaserum Antidote, and Amortentia.

There was a sudden flurry of movement with the test-takers around her groping for asphodel and sopophorous beans. She heard one of the witches moan painfully as she reached for a squishing sloth brain and smiled to herself. Cool relief filled her lungs, followed by the familiar flare of excited heat that she recognized from her victorious moments in Potions lessons with Slughorn. She could do this. She reached for her jars of asphodel and wormwood, setting two cauldrons in front of her at once – no point in wasting time doing one potion after another. She could brew both the Draught of Living Death and Shrinking Solution with her eyes closed. She caught Ministry Official D'Este eyeing her strange setup warily, and she smiled.

_Just watch, _she thought.

* * *

><p>"Quills down. Time is up."<p>

Rowan dropped the enchanted exam quill as the parchment shot from her desk and towards D'Este's hands. She let out a large breath and slumped over her desk, the muscles in her neck and back suddenly very sore. She closed her eyes and stretched her arms out in front of her, dropping her head and biting back a groan. She'd definitely need a hot shower later to work out the kinks in her back.

She looked up to see D'Este thumbing through the exams before straightening them out and peering over the group of test-takers once more. Rowan could have sworn that his eyes lingered on her for a brief moment, but she'd probably been mistaken.

"We will have the results of your exams ready by the end of the day. Please come see me at my office on the Second Level at 4 p.m., where we will post the results. If you have any questions, please feel free to come see me after."

Rowan took the moment to assess his face. He was lean and tall with a tuft of wispy strawberry blonde hair. He was perhaps in his late 30s to early 40s. He wore small wire-framed oval glasses on the end of a long narrow nose. She thought that he looked very kind, but very tired. Perhaps organizing these exams took just as much work as studying for them.

With a final nod, he dismissed them. There were a few quiet murmurs from a handful of her peers, who seemed to have been schoolmates at Hogwarts. She vaguely recognized the youngest out of them as a former Ravenclaw. She couldn't remember his name, but he'd been a Seventh Year when she'd first arrived at Hogwarts. It was surreal to see him again, now as a potential peer and colleague. She felt a small pang of insecurity as she realized how much more experienced and knowledgeable the rest of them probably were. She tried very hard to push the empty feeling in her stomach away – the test was over, and it would do her no good to worry about it now.

Rowan walked out of the Ministry into the biting January afternoon with a great sigh of relief. The sun was painfully bright, and the air seized her lungs with ice. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed the cold winter sun to soak into her skin. She wondered achingly where Remus was.

* * *

><p>Remus looked up blearily at the bright January sun, which reflected blindingly off of the white snow around him. It was so much colder than London, and the chill in his bones hadn't left since he'd arrived the evening before. He'd spent the long day prior hiking through the woods of northern Scotland, finally coming across the werewolf tribe of Gladaman.<p>

The word that had immediately come to mind was "gray." The people were gray. The terrain was gray. Even the sun seemed strangely gray. Each individual had deep lines and scars and heavy expressions, hair peppered with flecks of silver and white. For the first few hours, he'd been nearly frozen with fear at the sight of his tired face on every person he came across, including the children.

And the children! _How could there be so many children?_ Dumbledore had told him that the majority of children who lived with the Gladaman were not actually offspring of the elder tribe members, but rather children who had been bitten and then abandoned by their parents. He thought of his own parents with an overwhelming wave of gratitude and warmth – they could just as easily have left him to a community like this instead of taking on the burden of a cursed child. He could just as easily have been one of these gray children.

The tribe itself was composed of a motley assortment of individuals, mostly older men, and very few looked as if they were related. The hierarchical system of the tribe was sketchy and often violent, with the stronger men frequently fighting over leadership of the group. The children who were raised here often died young, and although many of the tribe members looked older, he knew they were probably all relatively quite young. He could only be grateful that the current leader was a seemingly reasonable and kind man.

"How ya doin' today, lad?" growled a deep but warm voice. Remus' head jerked up and he looked behind him quickly. Speak of the devil.

Ulfred, a man of about 50, was one of the oldest and most respected members of the tribe. He had surprisingly dark hair for a werewolf of his age, though it was peppered heavily with silver and blonde. His skin was tight and tanned from long exposure to the sun, and two large scars ran down the right side of his face from brow to jaw, just barely grazing the corner of his eye. His jawline was square and jutting, and his eyebrows were thick and bushy and black. A thick, dark, unruly mustache curled around his mouth. Remus thought he looked the very definition of a warrior.

The tribe leader clapped a heavy, thick hand on Remus' shoulder as he approached, shoulders covered in heavy furs. Remus marveled at how starkly this place contrasted to London – it was like a different time, a different world. He smiled thinly at the older man.

"I'm doing well. Thank you, sir."

Ulfred laughed heartily, a booming bark. It reminded Remus of Sirius' laughter, yet somehow even louder and grittier.

"Nothing like London, is it?" he grinned. Remus smiled sheepishly.

"I was actually just thinking that," he admitted. He looked back out and saw a pair of children rolling a large ball of snow down the street together. One had a scar up the left side of his jaw not too different from his own.

"Well, it has its charms, though I can't say the girls around here really compare," he joked. He grinned at Remus. "Ya gotta lass back home?"

Remus smiled as he thought of Rowan's bright eyes. "Yeah, I do," he said fondly.

"Didn' wanna come along?"

Remus smiled awkwardly. "Well, she's not a werewolf, so..."

Ulfred's eyes widened. His bushy eyebrows shot up his forehead with surprise.

"_Really?_" he exclaimed. He guffawed and slapped Remus on the shoulder hard. Remus' knees buckled slightly. He was reminded of Sirius for a moment. "I wanna hear 'bout that later. Sounds like a keeper. Bet she's a pretty lil thing, by the look o' yer face," he teased.

Remus nodded and couldn't help the proud grin that spread across his face. "She is," he admitted. The two men shared a smile.

But then Ulfred's face melted into something much grimmer. "Are ya ready fer tonight? I know Dumbledore's got the right idea, but I can't say the same fer me men. Yer gonna have to make a strong case."

Remus nodded solemnly with a slight grimace. He had never been a particularly strong debater or quick on his feet with sharp words. He suddenly wished James or Sirius were here to help him. He might have the support of the chief, but that didn't mean the rest of the tribe would listen to what he had to say. Voldemort certainly had more incentives to offer, regardless of how false they were. He could only hope that he could convince them of that.

"Don't look so glum, boy," Ulfred growled, slapping Remus again on the back. His body jerked slightly under its force, the palm of Ulfred's hand echoing through his ribs. "I'll be there to see that they play nice. Ya just gotta make yer argument. Ye'll be fine."

Remus smiled gratefully at the older man. His situation could certainly be much worse. He just hoped that the rest of the tribe was as reasonable.

* * *

><p>It was 3:52. Rowan stood in the Second Level hallway at the Ministry with the other test-takers waiting for the results of their exams. She had been strangely calm while walking around London in the interim, but now that she was back in the Ministry building, her stomach was a mess of knots again. She was leaning against the wall farthest from Mr. D'Este's office door. The rest of her peers stood or sat around with a few speaking in hushed tones. A couple shot her a few strange looks again as she'd entered the hallway, but none said anything to her. She was desperate for the next eight minutes to pass quickly. She imagined that they wouldn't release the results until 4 o'clock sharp.<p>

She was right. Eight minutes had never felt so long. Finally, a slight click from the clock on the wall indicated that it was finally time, and not even a second after, the door slammed open – jolting the potioneer candidates with shock. Tired, blonde Isaac D'Este stood in the doorway with a piece of parchment in his long fingers. He gazed around at them with an almost bored expression.

"Marco Abbey," he called.

The young man whom Rowan had recognized from Hogwarts jumped to attention from his seat nervously. D'Este gestured into his office, holding the door open for Abbey. The young man scurried in quickly and D'Este closed the door behind him. Silence refilled the hallway, and the butterflies in Rowan's stomach returned tenfold. She thought she might vomit at any moment.

Another eight minutes passed before the door creaked open again. Marco Abbey reappeared looking pale and ashamed – he clearly hadn't passed. Rowan felt a pang of pity as she watched him hurry down the hall for the elevator. She could certainly empathize – it must be devastating to work so hard for this exam only to fail. She desperately hoped she wouldn't face the same result.

"Rowan Delacroix."

Rowan's head jerked up as the even voice brought her out of her brooding. She straightened almost robotically, facing the tall, thin man. His gaze was much heavier on her than it had been on the previous candidate. She felt as though he were sizing her up, though for what she wasn't sure. He stood aside to allow her to enter his office, and her cheeks reddened with some embarrassment. She rushed forward and past him, making sure to not to make eye contact with any of the others.

His office was spectacularly simple, but not like Barty Crouch Sr.'s. Despite the sleek lines of the furniture, it was very comfortable with warm tones. The wood of his furniture was uniform and deep red, contrasting nicely with the dark green walls. It somehow reminded her of her father.

Before she could stop herself, she commented with some awe, "Your office is beautiful."

Almost immediately, her face turned nearly as red as the wooden furniture she was complimenting. She froze, mortified, and realized that D'Este was looking at her with a peculiar expression, as if trying to determine if she'd actually spoken and he hadn't just imagined it. She sat quickly in the chair across from his at his desk and stared down at her hands. She wanted to curl up and die.

D'Este cocked his head to side and stared at her for a moment with a searching expression, thoughts flickering across his face, before moving back towards his desk and sitting.

"Thank you. I am quite fond of it as well," he said slowly. His voice was very calming. He appraised her for another moment. She dared to look back up at him, and he held her gaze evenly. "Are you interested in wood types or design?" he asked curiously.

Rowan wasn't sure if she should feel relieved or more nervous. "Um, no, not in design really, but I have an interest in wood types and wandlore, I suppose. My father was partial to cypress. Your office reminds me of his somehow," she said nervously. She tried to smile weakly, but she felt very stiff.

D'Este nodded knowingly, but his face still held little expression.

"I have always been quite partial to redwood myself," he said calmly. "Your father – I met him a few times over the years at Ministry events. He was a good man. I was very sorry when he passed."

Rowan perked up at this. She nodded and smiled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thank you, sir. I'm sure he'd be very pleased to hear that."

D'Este nodded again vaguely and then opened a folder on his desk. He leafed over a few pieces of parchment with that peculiar almost-bored expression. Rowan sat up very straight in her seat with her hands in her lap. Her palms were sweating nervously. She wiped them as discreetly as possible on her thighs, heart racing. Her mind was speeding at a million miles per second – loud but too fast to comprehend.

Finally, he looked back up at her with a strangely concentrated look. He seemed to be scanning through her mind, and she wondered if he was a Legilimens like Dumbledore. She tried to recall the basic Occlumency training the Order had given her, but she'd always been pretty rubbish at it. Her nerves certainly didn't help. After a moment, she felt her mental walls coming up, but D'Este continued to stare at her. She didn't feel any inner prying, so he must have simply been thinking. She wasn't sure if she should feel more or less anxious.

"How old are you?"

Rowan blinked. D'Este's mouth had barely moved, and that concentrated expression remained. She almost thought she'd imagined it.

"Twenty, sir."

He gazed hard at her for another moment before setting the papers back down on his desk without breaking eye contact with her. He folded his hands on his desk in front of him slowly, fingers sliding over each other elegantly, almost like bird wings. He gazed at her for another moment in silence.

"You were Belby's girl, were you not?"

Rowan blinked in surprise again.

"Y-yes, sir. Did you know him?"

Again, he seemed to think for a moment before answering.

"Yes," he said simply. He thought for another moment. "You were involved in his research," he said. It was a statement, not a question. Rowan nodded slowly.

He stared hard at her again. She wondered if he was naturally like this or if this was some sort of interrogation strategy. Perhaps this was another aspect to the exam that they kept secret? But then, how had the man before her failed so quickly?

"I heard some of it was saved from the fire at his apothecary. Do you have it?"

Once again, Rowan was taken aback. She considered lying – why would he need that information? Was he for anti-werewolf legislation? She felt a small spark of defiance but held it back.

"Yes," she answered slowly. "I've been slowly recovering the work we'd been doing right before the fire. I was hoping to apply for some research grants soon to start testing again." She wanted to shift uneasily, but she held his gaze, keeping very still. She watched his face carefully for any sign of a change in expression.

His brow twitched – almost unnoticeably, but she caught it. She saw something flicker across his face – was it relief?

He held her gaze again for another long breath before looking back down at the folder on his desk. Rowan let out a quiet sigh of reprieve. She had no idea what just happened, but it felt significant. Somehow, she felt as if she should catch her breath and prepare for what felt like another long sprint.

D'Este leafed through the papers again quickly and then looked back up at her. She made sure to match his even gaze.

"Well, Ms. Delacroix, I am very surprised to say that you passed – almost with a perfect score at that," he said. His tone was very even, though she heard another strange note to it that she couldn't identify.

Relief hit her like a cold wave of ocean air followed by a surge of heat up her spine and into her cheeks. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and couldn't stop the grin that burst across her face. A flicker of surprise flashed across D'Este's face briefly, and her smile broadened. A bubble burst in her chest.

"Almost perfect? Master Belby would've killed me!" she gushed, laughing lightly. She sat up even straighter than before. There was a fire swirling in her stomach, and she wanted more than anything to punch something with joy. She couldn't wait to tell Remus when he got back. She couldn't wait to continue Belby's work.

D'Este nodded quietly again as if she'd just commented on the weather and then looked hard at her. He seemed to be thinking again.

"You are the youngest," he said quietly.

Rowan cocked her head quizzically. "Candidate?" she asked.

"Potioneer - you are the youngest to ever pass," he said. Rowan's eyes widened. Prideful glee swelled in her chest. "When I saw you, I was sure you would fail, especially when I saw you brewing two potions simultaneously – very reckless," he said evenly.

Rowan smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, Master Belby probably would've had my neck for that, but I've been brewing those two for years now. He had me doing those pretty frequently in the apothecary," she admitted. She felt guilty for bragging, but it was the truth. She also mused that she must sound like quite the gushing apprentice - she hadn't spoken so much about her late master in ages. She smiled at the thought.

D'Este nodded again. She was reminded of a crane, bobbing his neck back and forth over a river for fish. He looked over her calmly, taking in her form it seemed. She shifted slightly under his scrutiny.

"Will you open your own apothecary?" he asked.

Rowan frowned. She hadn't thought that far ahead. "Um, I suppose so. Legally, Master Belby left all of his estate to me, so I was planning to reopen his old apothecary sometime in the future, though I was hoping to publish before then. I don't think I can maintain a decent inventory while trying to complete my research," she said thoughtfully.

This, somehow, surprised D'Este. His eyes widened slightly, as if seeing her in a completely new light. He seemed to lean forward even more, chin jutting forward. His pale blue eyes pierced straight through her. She had to stop herself from recoiling.

"So you are close then - with the research?" His tone was soft, conspiratorial almost. Rowan's breath caught in her chest. She searched his face for a sign of malevolence or distaste but found none. She couldn't read him, but his expression seemed very neutral. Surely, she'd be able to sense if he were against her work, right?

"Err… yes," she admitted quietly. "I think so at least. Provided that I get the proper funding and research subjects, I think I could publish a treatment within a year. It's not a cure though."

His eyes widened even further, and a muscle in his forehead twitched. He released a breath quietly from his nose. His hands were gripping each other tightly.

Finally, he seemed to lean forward even further. Rowan wasn't sure if she should lean forward to meet him or backward to avoid him.

"How soon could you begin testing?"

Rowan's eyes widened this time. She couldn't believe her ears.

"Testing?" she echoed. He nodded slowly. Her palms were sweating again. She gripped her thighs tightly. "Um, I'd say in a couple of months or so. I'd need to find human subjects though, which I understand can be difficult." She couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at her with so much fervor.

D'Este exhaled shakily and leaned back into his chair, covering his face with his hands. Rowan exhaled as well and slumped into her chair slightly. She watched him carefully still, noting how human he seemed now. He'd almost appeared robotic before, but suddenly, it was as though all of the emotions he'd held in for the past fifteen minutes were rushing out of him. His hands seemed to be gripping onto them, hiding and holding them as they burst from his mouth. She wondered what he was thinking.

Finally, his hands slid from his face, though his eyes remained closed, face upward. She watched him apprehensively, almost expecting him to kick her out of his office at any moment. What could have caused this reaction?

His eyes opened, though they remained on the ceiling. His chest rose and fell slowly through his light gray robes; arms limp at his sides. Rowan wondered vaguely if the other license candidates outside were getting impatient.

"I am a werewolf, Ms. Delacroix."

Rowan nearly choked on her own spit. Her chest seized and jerked forward slightly with surprise. D'Este's gaze remained upward, but his face was completely slack. Had she misheard him?

"How…?" she started weakly. "How are you working here? You don't have any scars…"

"I have not had my condition long… about five years or so. I am fortunate enough to have connections with some influential figures at the Institute of Charms and Enchantments. I undergo a very serious ritual of protective charms every month during my transformation. It essentially restrains me so that I cannot hurt myself," he explained slowly. He looked back at her finally, slowly. His gaze was once again even. There was no indication that he'd had even the slightest lapse in poise.

Rowan's eyes widened again. She had read about such rituals, but they were so extensive and long… They took hours to apply and were very exhausting on those who performed them. This man must certainly have good friends very high up.

"That's incredible," she breathed. "You're very lucky."

D'Este nodded in his crane-like way again. "Yes, indeed. I owe a great debt to my friends at the I.C.E., as they have not revealed my status as an undocumented werewolf. Therefore, you must understand why I am very interested in this research of yours."

Rowan nodded eagerly. "Yes, of course," she rushed. She was astounded that he'd entrust her with such a great secret. How was this happening?

He held her gaze, assessing her. She felt that strange scrutiny again.

"I would be willing to act as a test subject when the time comes."

Rowan's jaw nearly dropped.

He nodded knowingly, as if hearing the question screaming in her mind. "It can be very difficult to find willing lycanthropic test subjects. I am sure you can understand why. In the case that you cannot find enough – and I will do my best to ensure that you do – I would be willing to serve as a subject."

Rowan's chest tightened with a wave of gratitude. How could she be so fortunate?

"But why?" she breathed. "You don't even know me. You haven't seen any of my work or know anything about my character, and I'm so young-"

"It does not matter," he said plainly. "You received the top score on this exam, and Damocles Belby saw enough potential in you to take you on as an apprentice. Age is insignificant." He shifted slightly, averting his gaze back down at his desk and then back up at her. "Doing something to help you is better than nothing."

Rowan's throat constricted. She felt heat at the back of her eyes but blinked it away. How fortunate was she to have met this man? How fortunate was she to have met Belby? Even in death, he was still determined to see his research come to fruition. She wished desperately that she could speak to him again.

"Thank you, sir," she said quietly. She hoped that her gratitude could be felt, but she couldn't find the words.

He nodded again. She was beginning to equate it to Belby's old grunting affirmations. It left her with a warm heat in her chest.

"Here," he said, scribbling a bit of information down on a piece of parchment. He wrote neatly in almost school-perfect script and then tucked it into the folder on his desk and handed the entire package to her. "This is all of the documentation you need to prove your licensing. Contact me when you are ready to apply for funding and subjects. I will be prepared."

Rowan accepted the folder gently, handling it like as if it were a precious gem. It felt so solid in her hands. She had really passed. She was a Potioneer – the youngest of all time!

She left his office in a daze after shaking his hand with heart clenching humbly, fingers clutching the folder to her chest. She didn't hear him call the next name or see the other candidates eyeing her with surprise and confusion. She stepped out into the cold January evening and seemed to wake as the orange sun hit her face.

She had so many questions! She'd been in such a stupor that she hadn't thought to ask him anything! How did he know Belby? How did he know so much about his research? About her? There were so many things she still wanted to know. She gingerly opened the brown leather folder he'd handed to her. In the front pocket was the small piece of parchment with his neat handwriting:

_Isaac D'Este, Head of the Ministry of Magic Research Committee_

She smiled and closed her folder, looking up at the blood red sun on the horizon. She needed to begin working right away.


	48. Of Deep Carving Lines

**A/N**: Hello, all! Sorry for the wait. Still in the process of packing/moving, so I can't write out thorougher [is that word?] responses to your reviews, but I wanted to give you _something_ in the meantime. It's nothing too exciting again though - this plot-setup period is going slowly...

THANK YOU to **lovirosa, sarahmichellegellarfan1, misslak, nessafly, missalex3030, and Lady Syndra** for all the amazingly kind reviews! Also, thanks for all the job congratulations haha. I'm incredibly thrilled for this next chapter in my life, and it seems to be coming at an appropriate time in our story as well. Big turning points ahead!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 48: Of Deep Carving Lines<strong>

Remus thought he might vomit from anxiety at any moment.

He sat in a large hut of earthy wooden tones and animal pelts. His nose was filled with the pungent odor of the hunt and sweat. Surrounding him was a large gathering of the Gladaman werewolf tribe. There was a ratio of perhaps five to one, favoring the men. A few small children danced around the edges. Loud, gruff voices growled and boomed around him as the tribe discussed a series of community matters. He was struck by how truly animalistic these people seemed to be. Despite being of the same race, he had an incredibly difficult time relating to these men. Was it the result of being with their own kind or simply from living so harshly? He supposed that anyone could develop this way in these conditions.

Remus sat beside the tribe chief Ulfred, who sat at the head of the hut on a large pile of lush pelts. His hair was wild, chapped lips tight over his broad teeth, as he watched his people fight and discuss. He rarely gave input - Remus was reminded of Dumbledore's constant moderation - but his presence was certainly felt by all. Remus felt minuscule compared to these men.

A small group, in particular, were quite intimidating. There were about four of them, all seated towards the front. They seemed much more grisly and hard than the rest. They sat murmuring in low tones, following Remus with narrow looks from deep set eyes. Remus did his best to not make eye contact with them, but he couldn't help but notice that the tribesmen around them were careful to not bump or rub up against them. It was like watching magnets of the same charge hover around each other. Three of them occasionally threw in their opinions into the discussion, but their leader never spoke. Remus had a dreadful feeling in the pit of stomach as he laid eyes on this man.

Ulfred finally stood, shoulders squared and domineering.

Ulfred gazed over the crowd calmly and fondly before his face straightened out solemnly. The tribe's faces seemed to melt to match it. "Last for tonight, I wanna discuss summin' o' great importance," he started seriously. "We have a guest here. He is a fellow Brother from London, and he bears a request."

Murmurs broke out amongst the werewolves. Remus felt all of their eyes fall upon him. His stomach seized with nausea, but he kept his expression hard and determined, shoulders squared off and defiant. These men would jump at the smallest sign of weakness.

"Quiet! _Quiet!_" barked Ulfred. The murmurs hushed again. "He comes as an emissary from the great wizard Albus Dumbledore." The intimidating group of men at the front glowered, Remus noted with a slight tremor of nerves. "I ask that ya hear him out. Treat him as a Brother. He is _my guest_. Bear that in mind," he warned. He eyed the tribesmen with a piercing look. A few nodded solemnly. No one protested. When Ulfred was sure that his words had been heard, he turned towards Remus. He stood from his seat and Ulfred sat.

Remus' hands trembled as he looked out at the crowd. They were so much fiercer than he. They were the same, and yet he felt completely alien. Even if he were to join his kind, he'd be just as much of an outsider here as he was in London. The thought left him feeling empty.

But he gathered up his courage and pushed ahead. He wanted to say that it was the cold winter chill that made his hands tremble.

"Hello, Brothers, Sisters," he greeted. He was surprised by the strength of his own voice. The dark presence in him howled. "My name is Remus Lupin. I've come here today as a representative of Albus Dumbledore with an offering of peace from the Order of the Phoenix." He brought out his wand – a few murmurs of awe were heard – and he waved it overhead. A large trunk appeared and fell to the ground with a great _thunk._ He moved forward to open it, revealing an expanse of rich foods and furs. Glimmers of golden Galleons flickered and glowed from the bottom. A wave of wonder settled over the werewolves.

"I bring you this as a token of my well wishes and thanks for your generous hospitality. I hope that you find it suitable and useful," he said, closing the lid of the trunk and taking a step back, gesturing that it was now theirs. A few men at the front eyed it greedily.

"But I also come with warnings," he said gravely. Silence settled over the tribe again. He looked over their hard and scarred faces with severity. "There is a war occurring within the wizarding community. I am sure you have heard of the one they call Lord Voldemort."

Even here, in the rustic, abandoned terrains, the name of the Dark Lord brought pain and fear. Nearly every individual flinched and a few growled at the mere utterance. Remus nodded gravely.

"He is a powerful and terrible wizard. If you have heard of him, I am sure you have heard of the rumors of our fellow Brothers and Sisters who are aiding him in his quest for complete dominance and genocide," he continued. "These werewolves are purposefully going forth and biting and infecting innocents, mostly children-"

A whimper was heard from the back. A woman slapped a hand to her mouth. Remus nodded again sympathetically.

"Yes, even children - the Dark Lord has no qualms about the suffering of others. I come here not to ask you to fight, but to request that you avoid these men, these Death Eaters. They will undoubtedly reach out to you if they have not already. They will try to bribe you and convince you that they will bring you power and riches-"

"And what's so different about what _you're_ doing?"

The room went silent. Remus saw that one of the grisly men who had been shooting him those frightening looks had spoken - the leader. His voice was deep, like the rumbling of falling trees. His hair was the color of muddied straw, and his nose was remarkably crooked as if broken several times. His lip curled in distaste. Remus could see that he'd sharpened his canines to beast-like points. He barely looked human.

"I'm sorry?" Remus asked politely, trying desperately to keep the firm tone of his voice. He hoped that he sounded confident.

"I said - what's so different about what _you're _doing?" repeated the wolf man, enunciating each word carefully, tauntingly.

Remus held his gaze despite the deep anxiety that shot through him. This man was dangerous - that much was obvious. He needed to tread carefully.

"You believe that I'm bribing you," Remus replied plainly. He stared hard at this wolf man, whose lip pulled higher into a disdainful sneer. Remus nodded knowingly, hearing the silent insults on his face.

"The difference is that I'm not asking anything of you," Remus declared, sharpening his gaze so that it bore into his opponent. His voice was clear and concise. "We don't want you to fight - for _either_ side. All we ask is that you do not get involved."

The wolf man sneered again. "Sounds like a bribe to me. Sounds to me like you're scared. Why not ask us to fight? Why go to the trouble of coming all the way here from London to just tell us to do nothing?" he drawled. His gazed darkened. "You're just as scared of us as the rest of those wizard bastards. _You're no Brother of ours._"

Murmurs broke out.

"Ajax," growled Ulfred, but the man Ajax seemed deaf to his warning. If anything, his lip only curled higher.

"What can you offer us that these Death Eaters can't? Why shouldn't we choose to side with them?"

Murmurs were heard again. Ulfred stomped a gigantic leather-clad boot on the ground, demanding silence. Remus felt his chest tighten, and sweat beaded on his upper lip. He felt unbearably hot, but he forced his face to remain straight. He hoped that his gaze had remained hard.

"These men are concerned for one thing only, and it does not involve the elevation of the werewolf," Remus continued, voice now raised and angry. Despite the cold, heat coursed through his veins. The chill that had held his form for the past few days had completely fell away. It seemed to melt liquidly, sinking into his flesh and bones. "These men want to annihilate all those who do not fall into their idea of 'pureblood' and are willing to use those whom they find inferior to achieve those ends. They find _us_ inferior."

Someone in the back smashed a fist against the ground in anger, and a series of shouts were heard. Ulfred, once again, had to call order.

"These men are dangerous," Remus continued solemnly. "They will stop to no ends to achieve their goals. I do not ask that you fight with the Order of the Phoenix against these men, only that you do not aid them. I do not wish to place my brethren in the face of a war that does not involve you. I only wish to warn you against the threat. When these men come – and they will – turn them away. Do not engage them – for despite their promises, they will only bring you suffering. They may offer you riches and glory, but as soon as they feel your use has been fulfilled, they will turn on you as well."

Remus kept his eyes locked with Ajax's. The man said nothing, but he could see the anger burning there. This was not the answer he had been seeking, but he obviously had no rebuttal for the time being. The dark voice roared in Remus' heart, not in victory but in warning. This man Ajax was not a man of peace. Something within him knew that he would face his anger soon in reparation.

"Alrigh', tha's enough fer tonight."

Remus was jerked from his silent exchanged with a large hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Ulfred smiling thinly, humorlessly, down at him.

"It's late. We'll continue this discussion tomorrow. I want everyone to consider Brother Remus' words of warnin'. This is not an issue to take lightly," he warned. His eyes lingered upon Ajax and his three companions, who muttered to each other darkly. Ajax's gaze had not left Remus' face, and he felt a small tremor in his gut. He would not sleep well tonight.

* * *

><p>In London, Rowan sat at her table with her Potioneer licensing certificate laid out neatly in front of her. It was dark out – almost time for sleep – but she couldn't stop looking at her newly acquired documents and replaying the events of the afternoon. The grin on her face had been plastered there for hours now, and she had to stop herself from touching it.<p>

Beside the documents was the diary Remus had given her for Christmas. Its blood red cover glowed in the light of her apartment. She ran a hand across it gingerly and thought of Remus, wishing desperately he could be there with her.

Carefully, she placed her license back into the brown folder D'Este had given her that day and slid the diary in front of her, opening it to the front page where Remus' familiar handwriting remained. She ran a thumb across her inky name and could imagine the deep tremor of Remus' voice. She missed him terribly.

But suddenly, black ink began to spread like vein across the next page. Rowan's hands shot off of the book in surprise – had she spilled something?

No, she realized it was the same familiar scrawl that she'd come to love so very much over the years – it was Remus!

_Hello?_

Rowan's face lit up as she read the simple word. It whispered his voice almost. She wanted to peel it from the book and store it away like a small treasure.

She needed to write back! She looked around frantically for her ink and quill – the same gray quill he'd given her so long ago – and set to writing back.

_**Hello! **_

For a moment, she waited, and then the inky began to spread again. Her heart leapt as she saw Remus' words type out quickly.

_Wow, I'm lucky to have caught you at the right time. This is cool, eh?_

Rowan laughed softly. She could see his smug smirk in her mind's eye. She dipped her quill again and began to write.

_**Yes, very cool. How are you? Where are you?**_

_I'm fine. I can't say much for now, but I'm up north and safe. I'll probably have to stay for another few days, but I'll be home soon. How are you? How was the exam?_

Rowan beamed happily. It seemed to be molded into her face permanently.

_**Fantastic! I passed with top marks! The youngest Potioneer in English history!**_

_Congratulations! I knew you'd pass. We'll be sure to celebrate when I get home. Have you told your mum yet?_

_**No, not yet. I was going to go see her and Alfred tomorrow. So much has happened today. I can't wait to tell you everything when you come back. It's almost unbelievable, really.**_

_Seems like we've both had extraordinary days then. Unbelievable is the right word._

Rowan grinned and nearly clapped her hands with delight. So his mission was going well!

_**I can't wait to hear all about it. What is the tribe like? Are you getting on with them?**_

There was a pause in Remus' fast responses, and Rowan's previous glee slowed. Perhaps the mission wasn't going as swimmingly as she'd first assumed. Finally, his words began to spread again, cautiously this time. She could nearly hear his voice from the slow crawl of ink.

_I don't really know how to describe it... Haunting, I suppose. Like I said, I can't tell you much for now, but it's a completely different world, like I've stepped into a strange time in the past. It's mostly men here – warrior types; not many women, but a surprising number of children. _

Rowan's heart clenched. She couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for him to see children like him. He must have had a hard time when he'd arrived.

_**Are you making much progress on your mission?**_

_I'm not sure, to be honest. I'd like to think so, but I don't want to jinx myself. It's delicate. There seems to be a complex system of politics here that I don't quite understand yet. It's tense. There are a few individuals who are obviously not keen on my being here. I'm meeting with the tribesmen again tomorrow, so I'll let you know how it_ goes.

Rowan's chest was tight. Remus sounded very apprehensive, despite the few details he was giving her. And if she was feeling that anxiety through mere words then he must truly be worried. She wanted to be there to support him. She wished there were a way to transfer her hope through the book along with her words, but she couldn't even find the right ones to say.

_**Good luck. I know you'll do great.**_

She reread the weak encouragement with some shame. Wasn't there something better, something more meaningful? Why couldn't she think of anything?

There was so much she wanted to ask, so much she wanted to know. A community of werewolves - how fascinating would that be? Her inner researcher was green with envy, despite all the fear she had for Remus. How readily were they accepting him there? Was it everything he'd imagined? They hadn't had much time to discuss his thoughts on the matter before he left - it'd been such a sudden assignment. She was suddenly even more eager for him to come home, just so that she could hear all about his mission.

Rowan thought again for a moment. She felt a question at the back of her throat, but she was unsure of how to word it. How would he respond?

But before she could ask, his neat scrawl began to creep out again.

_It's strange. Technically, these people are my "kind," but I feel so out of place here. I've always felt like I didn't belong, but now that I'm here, I feel even less at ease. I'm not sure what to make of it. Does that make any sense?_

Rowan let out a sigh of relief and smiled brightly. Even miles away, he seemed to be on the same wavelength as she. Her chest felt very warm.

_**It does. I'm not really sure what to say. You've always belonged here, even if you never realized it. You certainly belong with me.**_

Rowan waited for a moment. His reply didn't come as quickly. Had she said the wrong thing? Conversing so far apart and without seeing him was very difficult. She shifted anxiously, waiting for his response with bated breath.

Finally, his scrawl appeared again.

_You're right. I've always belonged with you. _

Rowan let out a sigh and grinned. She wanted to throw herself at him.

_**Damn straight.**_

A blot of illegible ink appeared, then a little smear. Rowan watched it amusedly as it slid back and forth.

_Sorry, I laughed and spilled a bit of ink. I wish I could pinch your face right now._

Rowan laughed out loud.

_**I wish you could too. I'll let you pinch it as much as you want when you get home.**_

_You're going to regret that._

_**Rude.**_

Rowan smiled as she admired their conversation. She could hear his voice in every syllable, every line. She suddenly didn't feel so lonely.

_I should go to bed. I'm helping some of the men with a few tasks early in the morning. You should get some rest too. I'm sure you had a long day._

Rowan yawned on cue. She smiled softly to herself as she rubbed her eyes before setting her quill back down on the page.

_**Yeah, I did. And I will. Good luck tomorrow. Keep me updated when you can. I'll keep my side open tomorrow evening. I miss you and love you.**_

_Sounds good. I'll try to write tomorrow as well. I miss and love you too. Goodnight, Winnie._

_**Goodnight, Remus.**_

Rowan didn't close the diary but pushed it to the side. She slid her chair out from the table and stretched her arms with a great yawn before standing and heading to the bathroom to prepare for bed.

As she settled into the blankets in the dark, she thought of Remus' furrowed brow and long fingers glowing by candlelight in some far-off world. She smiled softly to herself. He was becoming quite the adventurer. She hoped that they'd be able to share the next mission together – what an adventure that would be.

* * *

><p>Just outside of Gladaman, silence stretched over the night like a thick blanket. The fields were wide and blue and seemingly endless. The perfection of the cold snow was marred only by a thick trail carved from its depths. It was dark and wandering, like inky sprawls across sparkling paper.<p>

Three figures stood on the edge of the small village. Small winding plumes of smoke whispered up into the dark sky where they seemed to sprinkle across its expanse and join the glowing stars above. The largest bared his teeth, lips stretching into a slow grin. His yellow teeth gleamed from the faint orange light of the campfires, each sharpened cruelly into severe points. He flexed a hand - thick, gnarled fingers extended and curled to cracked and dirt-caked fingernails. His matted gray hair lay limp against his pale face.

He looked up to the sky. The moon was waning - a thin sliver of light. The night of the new moon would be upon them soon.

_Good,_ he thought.

Darkness would suit them well.


	49. Of Silent, Still Light

**A/N**: BUHH SORRY. I'm finally settled into my new place in my new city, preparing for my new job! I'm very sorry for making you all wait, but thank you so much for the reviews while I was away! Here are TWO chapters to make up for it! Also, I can finally thank you all properly again!

There's the slightest bit of German in this chapter, but I know nothing about German. Google translate is my only resource. If the translation seems weird, please let me know. Thank you!

**nessafly: **Thank you! I'm glad you appreciated the Remus-focused chapter and SUPER GLAD you're in love with Remus again haha. I always look forward to your reviews. You were one of my first loyal readers, so I take your criticisms and praises very highly into account.

**Kitty Monroe: ** You said you were only on Chapter 3 at the time of your review, so maybe you'll get this a little later on, but THANK YOU. I feel bad when I say that I don't practice beyond this, but it's true. I have been brooding over this story internally for a very long time though, and I read a ton, so it's probably just replication of some other author's style. But thank you so much for reading! I hope you still feel the same way by the time you read this haha.

**Guest...? ** I don't have a name to go with your kind words, but thank you so much! I'm really happy you like my OC and the relationships between the characters. It's funny that you should request a Sirius chapter because I've actually just written one up! It's not super cheerful, but it'll come up within the next few chapters or so. It's going to get dark again soon, but I'm trying to sprinkle some lighter ones here and there to keep it from collapsing in weight. Thanks so much again!

**MissAinsley:** Thank you so much for reading and all the following! I'm really glad Remus and Rowan are back together too :]

**misslak:** Ahahahaha what IS about to happen? I'm afraid you won't find out in this chapter. Sorry!

**missalex3030:** Thank you! I'm glad you still liked it, even though it was transitional. There are quite a few to get through because I'm trying to set everything up for the ending of this story and the beginning of the next, but once things get rolling, it'll be like a freaking avalanche.

**sarahmichellegellarfan1: ** Thank you! And you'll find out... soon...

**Lady Syndra:** Hello! And thank you so much for reading and following along! Hope to hear from you again ^^

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 49: Of Silent, Still Light<strong>

Two weeks had passed - two very long weeks.

The high spirits that Rowan had from passing her exam didn't remain for long. Despite his promise to keep her informed of his progress, Rowan didn't hear from Remus the next day or the day after that. For the first few days, she reasoned that he was most likely busy with negotiations. On the fourth day, the fear that whispered at the back of her mind began to scream, and by the sixth, she could hear nothing else. January 31st came and went and, still, no word from him. She stared at the blank pages of their shared journal for hours, night after night, waiting for even the slightest speck of ink to appear. But none came.

At the Order meeting a few days after her exam, she begged Dumbledore to give her any information about where Remus had gone, but he remained reticent, sadly shaking his head and offering quiet words of consolation; however, his stance remained hard – all information regarding Remus' mission was strictly classified "for her own protection." She stormed out of Headquarters on the verge of tears and, for the very first time, furious and bitter towards the great wizard.

Rowan was beside herself. She'd known that his mission had no definite itinerary, but the silence was suffocating. It was like slowly drowning in lukewarm water. This was a special brand of hell – no, purgatory. Hadn't he promised to write back? She read over their single conversation countless times until she could recite it by heart – until it felt like a distant narrative from a book and not like a true exchange with him.

Work was impossible. Despite the fire that had burned through her after her conversation with Isaac D'Este, there was no focus to be found now. Research grants seemed almost frivolous in comparison to her boyfriend's sudden disappearance. She tried desperately to direct her borderline hysteria towards something productive, but she couldn't seem to think about anything for long before her thoughts trailed back to Remus.

She wanted to go look for him, desperately. She, James, and Sirius had discussed it quietly after her infuriating conversation with Dumbledore. But where had he gone? He was up north - she knew that much - but it wasn't like she could just pack up and keep heading north until she found something that looked like a werewolf tribe. And even in the nearly non-existent chance that she found him, there was no way that she could defend herself against an entire tribe of werewolves, who were most likely either afraid or hostile to outsiders. If Remus hadn't been able to win their trust, how could she hope to even step foot there?

_She shouldn't have let him go_ – it echoed from her gut up her throat. He'd asked her – there was no way he would have turned the mission down on his own, but if she'd protested… Her entire body burned with regret. Every terrible possibility flashed behind her eyes until she was dizzy and sick. Grief eventually turned to exhaustion, and sleep came quickly. As her eyes drifted shut – heavy and numb – she thought vaguely that perhaps it was best to sleep – better to sleep than to fear.

* * *

><p>February 5th arrived, and the silence deepened, echoing painfully in her chest. The scribbled red star on the date on her calendar seemed to shoot through her heart – one year since Belby's passing. The thought was surprisingly numbing in the wake of recent events. She wanted to feel more – she <em>ought<em> to feel more. But still, she'd expected Remus to be back by now. She'd expected to him to be with her to help her through this day. And yet she was alone.

She mused that there wasn't really anything to "get through," per se. There was no grave to go visit – not that Belby would have wanted one anyway. As Rowan laid in bed in her empty apartment, she looked at the window, her head poking out from beneath the covers. The sun seemed almost gray, and yet, it was blinding. She mused dully that she ought to go outside – Belby would have torn her apart if he'd seen her in this state. She wondered how he'd managed through Marie's death. She shuddered painfully and pushed back the panic from her throat – Remus wasn't dead. He was coming back. He'd promised her.

Instead, she settled for a slow shrug of her blankets, setting her feet on her cold wooden floor hesitantly. She relished the sharp chill that shot up her legs as she stretched her toes out on the smooth polished wood. She braced herself and pushed upward, steadying her dizzied head. She breathed the cold air in deeply.

She would make an effort today.

* * *

><p>It had been so long since she'd gone back to Diagon Alley, back to the apothecary. The burnt remains weren't so black anymore, but what had once been her master's shop was now a strange skeleton of its previous state. Each broken wooden plank and pipe appeared to be a shattered bone, a broken rib. What had remained of the glass was now shattered, gaping holes. She was almost scared to touch the structure – would it scream in pain?<p>

Yellow tape still surrounded the broken remains of her master's apothecary. She grimaced – of _her_ apothecary. Craning her head around, she saw that the street remained strangely empty. When she was sure that no one would notice, she ducked beneath the yellow tape and stepped into the shop, holding her breath slightly as if waiting for the entire storefront to collapse upon her.

The floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Glass and wood littered the floor. The stairs leading to the basement were completely gone – she couldn't go down there. Strange holes gaped beneath some of the shelves – their contents had obviously eaten away at the wood. She almost wanted to follow those holes downward. She wondered what she'd find down there.

As she gazed around the shop, she could imagine it as it had always been. She could remember each shelf's contents and all of their labels. She remembered the shape of each bottle, the color of each potion, the way each shelf glittered and shone as the morning light from the windows crawled over them. She remembered the clear clink and chime as the glass bottles collided and the way poor old Alexander would coo in greeting as she walked in every morning. She remembered Belby's deep affirming grunts and small words of praise.

Her throat tightened.

She needed to leave.

* * *

><p>Finally, she found herself outside of her master's old apartment – her last payment of respect. She had wanted to rent it out the year before but hadn't found the courage, instead leaving it to its little sliver of frozen time. She didn't want to touch her master's things. No matter how irrational, she almost felt as if he might show up again if she were to leave his belongings in their original state. She wanted to imagine that he might return for them; for her.<p>

As she opened the door with a creak, the silence of the room echoed the eerie sound back. For a moment, she simply stood in the doorway and looked around the room. Her eyes trailed over his simple bed, his simple table. Her chest tightened with disappointment and then bitterness – how stupid was she to expect any different?

Everything was the same as she'd left it. The sparseness of his space remained constant, but a thin layer of dust had covered everything. She was even more afraid to touch anything now.

As she turned around the room slowly, her eye was eventually caught by the large bookshelf. Really, it was more like a wall of books. There was a wide array in size and color, from tiny hand-sized booklets to gargantuan texts the weight of a small child. Her hand hovered over the bindings, close enough to feel the spirit of her old master but far enough to avoid the large tufts of gray dust.

Suddenly, her hand hit something. She stopped. Every book had been pushed back into the shelf so that every binding lined up perfectly, creating a smooth even surface of spines; however, one black book stuck out amongst the rest. Her fingers had run up against it, thudding softly against its cover. Rowan's eyes trailed over the dull gold lettering on its spine: _Seltene magische Pflanzen Mitteleuropas._

Something inside of Rowan crawled out from the depths of her mind and wrapped its fingers around this book. It was unusual for it to be sticking out so irregularly. Belby was a neat man – meticulous, even. He'd yelled at her on more than one occasion for her messy habits. This book wasn't too big to be pushed back like the rest – why was it out?

Covering her mouth and nose with one hand, she wiped the spine of its layer of dust, squinting as a small cloud of gray billowed around her. She then pulled the book from its spot and shook it gently, allowing the rest to fall away. Her eyes watered slightly as it settled around her. When she was sure that the book was free from its coating, she stepped away from the shelf and sat on the floor, setting the book down carefully in front of her.

It was clearly an old book. What had once been a dark black cover was now graying. The gold lettering along the spine and on the cover had dulled and lost some of its sheen. No photo graced the cover. It was simple, stark. She wondered in what ancient library Belby could have found it.

Running her fingers over the book's mouth, her fingernail caught on a page. Was there a piece of paper stuck inside? Hooking a finger, she opened the book slowly to the blockage, eyes widening as they scanned over the pages' contents.

_Bakony Lunar Flowers._

Images of the field of glowing white flowers from that dark memory a year before filled her as if the light had traveled to her from that distant land through the pages of the book. Rowan hadn't thought of those slowly blossoming flowers in months. It seemed ludicrous – how had she forgotten?

Unfortunately, the text itself was in a language she didn't know. German perhaps? She thought of the mountainous forests from her late master's memories. Even they spoke in a language she didn't understand. She would have to find someone to translate for her. However, a few pieces of yellowing parchment laid in the pages, sticking up at attention from the binding. She plucked them from the book – she thought of a flower with a wry smile – and opened them, careful not to fold or wrinkle the pages. These words were in English.

Belby's neat, staccato handwriting ran across the parchment. Rowan's eyes burned as she let them wander over the ink, simply admiring his words without reading them. Her chest ached sharply with a sudden pang.

But then her eyes seemed to adjust and focus. The words began to embed themselves slowly into her mind, as if they were sinking into the soft tissue of her brain, allowing it to absorb their meaning, their inherent desires. Her breath came shallowly.

The notes were scattered and in broken shorthand, but she felt as if she could understand their general meanings. _Temporal development. Conditional harvesting. Time delicate additives._ The sharp pang in her chest spread warmly and melted until it seemed to re-solidify and clench, sinking its fingers into her heart. She wanted to squeeze that hand back.

Most of the notes were old. She could see that the majority of the ink was fading. But on the last page, there was relatively fresh black ink – dark and seductive. Had her master written these close to his passing? Is that why the book had been pulled out?

_Extract oils at peak of full moon. Test with aconite and moonstone mixture? Show Delacroix. _

Rowan's heart nearly exploded. This was new! He had clearly written this right before his death! Perhaps he had abandoned this research early on and then renewed it in light of their recent findings! She wanted more than anything to squeeze dear old Belby. His guiding hand was still at work. The lethargy and despair that had seized Rowan for the past week still remained, but it was somewhat lighter. She closed the book and held it to her chest tightly.

_Master Belby._ She could almost pretend for a moment that she heard her old master's voice rumble through the book's pages.

As she left the old building, Rowan gazed back up at its brick walls. The stillness of her master's space seemed to spill out of the windows and seep through the mortar. The building seemed frozen in time. The sky was a cloudy gray. Perhaps it would rain soon. She clutched the book tightly once more. She wondered achingly if Remus was somewhere out there looking up at the same sky.


	50. Of Keeping Our Enemies Close

**A/N**: WAIT WAIT WAIT. DID YOU READ CHAPTER 49 FIRST because this is a DOUBLE CHAPTER POST.

Things are finally going to start rolling again! Barty finally makes his long-awaited reappearance.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 50: Of<strong> **Keeping Our Enemies Close**

Rowan sat nervously in a Diagon Alley café. She tried hard not to fidget but couldn't help but twiddle her teacup between her hands on the table. It clinked and scraped softly against the pale green saucer as she stared hard into it. A few bits of tealeaves sat at the bottom of the red tea. She hoped morosely that they read well.

A couple of days had passed since her quiet moments in Belby's old flat, but still no word from Remus. The debilitating lethargy of the days before remained somewhat, but since finding her old master's notes, she'd put forth the effort to at least maintain a semblance of functioning; however, the apathy still remained. Though the promise of new research leads had been a slight light in the darkness, she still felt the shadows heavily. If anything, the light only emphasized how long and daunting those shadows were.

As they'd promised before Remus' departure, Frank Longbottom and Kingsley Shacklebolt had summoned her the week before with their plan to get information regarding Barty Crouch Jr., and of course, Rowan had felt compelled to assist in anyway possible. But now that she was here, she wished she could be anywhere else. She knew how critical it was to catch this criminal - she had a particular responsibility if it _was_ Barty - but she just couldn't muster the passion. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, her mind always trailed back to Remus. She was ashamed at how weak she felt. It was pathetic.

But she'd put on a hard face and nodded and complied. The least she could do was cooperate and play her part, right?

This brought her to the cafe. At her feet lay her small bag. Though it wasn't unusual for her to have it with her, she kept tapping it with her foot to ensure that it was still there. She kept it underneath her chair, caged between her feet like a pair of gargoyles. Its presence was a heavy weight in her stomach.

"Rowan!"

Rowan turned to see an immaculately dressed young man approaching her with a bright smile. She stood swiftly – still painfully aware of the bag at her feet – and automatically returned the expression, gracefully accepting the embrace and kiss on the cheek that he offered. As they both sat down, he scanned over her quickly with an approving grin.

"You're looking as lovely as ever. I hope I didn't make you wait long," he said jovially.

Rowan smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, and don't worry about it. I arrived a bit early. You're also looking well." She also sized him up – his dark green robes, his carefully combed hair. Besides the deep tired lines that folded beneath his eyes, everything seemed as normal as ever. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but those physical signs of stress were off-putting. She'd never seen him look so tired. It all seemed very distant though, like a surreal dream. "How have you been? How's work?"

Barty sighed. It seemed like a half-hearted attempt at playful drama - even he looked too tired to keep up appearances. "Oh, you know, the usual – Father's been working me to the bone, and now with this fugitive murderer on the loose, it's been mayhem - like we needed _another_ killer on the prowl."

Rowan wanted to say that his tone was disingenuous, but she couldn't be sure. Hadn't he always spoken this way?

"Yeah, I've been reading up on the case in the paper. God, I can't even imagine what it must be like around the department right now," she said sympathetically. "Do you have any new leads?"

Barty swirled a tiny spoon in his tea distractedly with a dark expression on his face. "Unfortunately, no, not at the moment. Whoever's been doing it has been very thorough to cover his tracks. Honestly, it's probably another Imperius case." He sighed quietly. "It's terrible. You just can't be sure whom to trust anymore."

Rowan nodded and kept her eyes trained on his face. She tried hard to keep her expression sympathetic, but the more she thought about it, the more strained her face felt. Was sympathetic even the right reaction? Should she give a harder expression? How could she have ever thought she could do this? Her feet tightened around her bag momentarily.

"You've been avoiding me, Rowan."

Rowan's head jerked up. When had she looked away from his face? Barty was looking at her with a small, teasing smile, and her face reddened slightly. She thought she saw something in his gaze that was off, but she couldn't pinpoint it. It seemed to be a constant issue with him.

"Rude. I have not," she bit back playfully. "I've been very busy. I just passed my licensing exam, and I've been trying to recover all my lost notes from the fire last year," she explained. "I'm sorry I've been so out of touch lately, but that's why I invited you out today. I thought it'd be nice to catch up."

Barty nodded. His smile broadened a bit. "I'd heard about you passing your exam. Congratulations. And I have to admit that I was extremely pleased to hear from you. I miss having you around."

Rowan smiled back.

The two got to small talk over tea and biscuits, and though their interactions were as light and casual as ever, Rowan couldn't shake the tension in her chest, the heat at the back of her neck. Her legs remained taut throughout their conversation, feet rigid and unmoving around her bag. But his strained movements seemed to be a strange reflection of her own.

"Have you heard anything regarding Dumbledore's Army as of late?"

Rowan nearly flinched but was able to steady her hands as they brought her cup to her lips. She took a delicate sip as she mulled the question over in her head. She'd rehearsed this. She could answer this.

"I have," she answered carefully, "but I'd imagine you probably know more about that than I do, being in the Ministry and all. I get all my news from _The Daily Prophet_."

Barty's expression remained light, but there was the _something_ there again. It was like looking at two faces at once. She wasn't sure which was real.

"I see," he said quietly.

"Have you contacted Dumbledore at all?" Rowan asked.

Barty nodded, though his expression turned dark. She could see something bubbling beneath the surface. "Yes, but he denied it all – said they're all just _rumors_." He nearly spat the word.

"Maybe they are," Rowan urged.

Barty shook his head, gaze still down in his teacup. She wondered what he saw in his.

"No, he's just prejudiced against me because I'm a Slytherin," he muttered. "I know how it is with him. He has his Gryffindor favorites and fuck everyone else."

Something jolted up Rowan's spine. She'd never heard Barty curse before, not like that. He'd always been the image of decorum, if nothing else. She was certainly no stranger to vulgar language, but somehow, it sounded incredibly offensive coming from him.

"That's a bit hypocritical," she replied defiantly. She had no idea why she was trying to antagonize him, but that bit of something in her stomach rose slightly to her throat. "I could argue that every Slytherin I've ever met has been just as prejudiced towards Gryffindors."

Barty looked up from his cup and assessed her quietly. She felt his eyes scan over her face with a hard, searching expression, and she held his gaze. She felt that silent challenge there again - it was a relief almost.

"You're right," he agreed quietly. He seemed to think hard for a moment before continuing. "You know, when I first met you, I'd assumed I'd hate you," he admitted. He said it quietly, like a secret thought he'd been considering for a long time. It wasn't hostile though.

Rowan couldn't help her eyes from widening in surprise. He was certainly in the mood to shock today.

Barty nodded, as if answering some unspoken question. "I saw you as one of Dumbledore's little pets. I must admit I'm still not sure why you hang out with the likes of Black and Potter – I never understood their appeal – but I can see why _you_ were one of Dumbledore's favorites."

Rowan's heart seemed to have slowed to a complete stop. She couldn't quite find it. What was he saying?

"We're quite similar, you and I," he continued slowly. That burning look returned, but it only simmered. "You would have thrived in my house. You certainly have the credentials."

Rowan bristled at this. "Well, that's where we'll have to disagree. I'm disinterested in joining a House based on _credentials,"_ she said bitterly. "Also, I think I'd rather die than be a Slytherin at this point." She wasn't sure why she was being so harshly judgmental – there were certainly numerous Slytherins to be admired – but she wanted to hurt him. It wasn't right. She was being just as spiteful as he was, but she felt a strong compulsion to meet his vindictive words with her own.

But his expression didn't turn up into the sneer she'd expected. Barty stared hard at her again. His eyes wandered slowly over her face, and then the corner of his lips twitched upward slightly. There was no word for it. "Smile" seemed to fall short of something. It wasn't a smirk. It held no humor, and she wasn't sure if she would go so far as to say there was warmth there; however, for the first time during that conversation, she could be sure that it was genuine.

"What makes you think that you won't?"

Rowan's throat tightened momentarily, and understanding spread through her. His silent declaration of intent melted into her. She felt the strange smile on his face also pinch her own. It was resolution.

"I just won't," she said simply.

Barty's lips twitched upward a bit more, warmly.

"No… you won't," he agreed.

* * *

><p>The rest of Rowan and Barty's lunch date passed uneventfully. Neither mentioned Dumbledore or the war again, and eventually, the tension in Rowan's ankles slackened. She mused silently how odd of a picture they made – the Order member and the Death Eater. Their conversation flowed smoothly but certainly with a more muted tone at the sense of understanding between them, and before she knew it, they were moving towards the exit together. Barty's hand rested on her back, guiding her through the café with his gentlemanly habits. She knew she should feel threatened, but there was only a strange twinge of nostalgia. It was like a dance of habit, for the sake of old times, for structure.<p>

As the pair stood outside in the cold, Rowan looked up at Barty. The high collar of his black wool coat pushed up around his cheekbones handsomely as he looked up at the sky. The heat of his breath whispered up with his gaze. Rowan followed it to see a dense mass of billowing gray clouds overhead. The sky looked as if it could fall at any moment.

"Looks like we'll be getting some more snow," Barty commented quietly. Rowan looked back at him. His gaze still remained upward, and she was reminded of Remus.

The line of Barty's brow was furrowed at an anxious angle. He seemed to be deep in thought, and Rowan took the time to admire him. Just six months before, she had looked at him and wondered if there was a possibility that they would ever really be together. With Remus' absence and Barty's sudden reappearance, the question reemerged vaguely, like floating smoke. How would her life have played out differently thus far? How would it have proceeded from here? Could she have convinced him away from the path he'd chosen? She didn't feel an ache, only a strange sorrow.

Finally, Barty turned back to face Rowan. The hard line of his brow remained; his mouth twisted almost into a grimace. Rowan looked up at him searchingly, and he seemed to do the same. His eyes scanned over her face slowly, taking in her features carefully. There was no longing, no hunger, but no bitterness either. She noticed the unusual tired lines beneath his eyes again, the heaviness of his brow. Away from the lights and bright noises of the cafe, Rowan realized just how tired he looked. The war hadn't taken its toll on just her side, after all.

His lips quirked up into that almost-smile again.

"Things never would have worked out between us, would they?" he asked quietly. He posed it as a question, but it didn't feel that way. Rowan simply smiled back gently. His lips quirked again into something warmer.

"It's a pity you chose the wrong side," he said.

Rowan's smile stretched a bit. "I could say the same," she replied.

Barty regarded her fondly. She felt all of the heat and laughter of their summer afternoons spent together in her flat. In another world, could they have truly been friends? He leaned forward slowly, and Rowan closed her eyes. She felt his lips press against her cheek, and she breathed in his warmth. For a brief moment, she imagined the alternate life in which she had chosen him.

And then he pulled away. That soft expression remained. His brown eyes gazed into hers once more. It felt like a conclusion.

"Take care, Rowan Delacroix." She smiled.

"You too, Barty."

* * *

><p>The long shadowy hall of the Dark Lord echoed again with slow footsteps. Barty Jr. walked along the length of the sleek ebony table towards his master, the snake Nagini slithering along with him by his feet. He seemed to ignore the snake. He almost seemed bored to even be there. His pale face glowed rhythmically with the passing tall windows, contrasting with the inky blackness of his long coat.<p>

"Barty, my boy… How was your date?" drawled the pale wizard as Barty approached.

Barty continued walking at his slow pace until he reached his master. His feet padded softly against the cold stone floor. He stood in front of him with a nearly blank expression.

"Uneventful," he responded. He seemed to think hard for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly. "That way is shut. I won't be seeing her again."

The Dark Lord turned this over in his head for a moment before nodding slowly. Barty felt as if he should be surprised, but he only felt tired. He was suddenly so tired of this game, of this girl.

"Yes, she seems to be quite the dead-end," mused the pale wizard quietly. Barty felt him prodding gently through his thoughts and memories, but he made no effort to hide himself. He let the smoky tendrils push and slither through his psyche. He'd already done enough. Was there even a point to conceal himself?

His master's thin lips stretched slightly, quirking upwards. It wasn't a smirk. It was too gentle for his master's face. It seemed eerie.

"You care for this girl," he noted quietly. There was no derision there, only observation.

Barty shrugged apathetically. "We are similar," he said simply. He paused to think again. "She knows what I am."

The Dark Lord nodded slowly. He folded his long fingers in front of him, resting them against his chin thoughtfully. His mouth then stretched again into a light smile.

"Well, it's no matter. You're very lucky. I am in a good humor today," he mused.

Barty arched a brow. "Oh?" he asked.

The smile on his master's face broadened minutely. "Yes, Severus has brought me great news. We will find our way to Dumbledore soon enough," he said quietly. He gazed at Barty for a moment thoughtfully. "That dear girl of yours will fall with him."

Barty nodded but made no answer. He gazed out the window listlessly as he felt his master slip through the fortifications of his mind, and again, he offered no resistance. What happened to Rowan Delacroix mattered not. Respect or no, he was tired of her. He was tired of the Ministry. He was tired of this war.

The Dark Lord seemed satisfied with this. Barty felt him slip out of his mind and mentally sighed.

"Is that old Pettigrew woman still in your care?" the dark wizard asked.

"Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded approvingly. "I think it is time we inducted Wormtail properly. I will be needing him again very soon," he hissed pleasurably.

Barty nodded.

"Anything you wish, my Lord."

* * *

><p>Peter Pettigrew sat in his dark flat. He had felt the gashes in his back sting with forewarning and knew it was simply a matter of time before his handlers came to fetch him. He wondered what they would want from him next.<p>

On the small coffee table in front of him sat a small clear vial of amber liquid. It remained unopened. He remembered the warm smile on Rowan's face as she'd handed it to him with her well wishes for his mother's condition. His throat tightened momentarily as he thought of the two women. He prayed desperately that his poor mother was safe. He prayed that he was the only one to bear his shame.

Suddenly, the freshest gash in his back burned terribly. He gasped as jolts of pain shot through the cut. His shoulders seized back reflexively as he twitched and whimpered. _Why? Why him?_

A billow of black smoked around him and rose quickly until a tall presence stood in front of him, staring down at his round form. His expression seemed almost bored, and yet Peter somehow knew – this was it.

"Time to go," Barty Jr. said quietly.

Peter nodded quietly and stood. He gazed around his flat once more – who knew when he'd be back here again? He then looked down at the vial on the table. It glowed in the blue light of evening, and he thought back to the burning look that had brought him to this point. His chest tightened, but only momentarily, and as he looked back up to Barty, he wondered if it had all been worth it.

He stepped forward and Barty wrapped a slender hand around his arm. Blackness swallowed them quickly, and as he was sucked into the void, he knew that the burning cuts in his back read _Wormtail_.


	51. Of the Monster at the Window

**A/N**: Went back and read some of _Of Wolves and Men_'s first chapters and decided they needed some revisions. There are no plot changes, but I think they're written a little better now. Go check it out if you're bored!

**nessafly:** THANK YOU! I was a bit worried about the sudden tone change for Ch. 49, but I'm glad people seem to still enjoy hearing about Belby's influence on Rowan. He'll continue to be a driving force for her. As for Barty, thank you again! I was pretty pleased with the way they ended things too. Thanks for the review and for reading, as always!

**missalex3030: **Yeees! I'm so glad you appreciate Rowan's independence. I hate reading stories about women who totally fall apart without a man. And trouble is definitely brewing. Thanks for the awesome reviews!

**misslak:** Yeah, I always feel a bit sad writing about Peter. The Marauders in general all make me really sad when I think about their lives/deaths from canon. But thank you, as always! ^^

**sarahmichellegellarfan1:** Buh, it's so hard to write out your full penname. I might start shortening it to SMGF1 haha. Is that okay? It sounds like a cool spaceship or something. But thank you for the reviews and the concern for my well-being in general haha. REMUS IS BACK.

**Bridget275green:** Haha hello! The update is here!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 51: Of the Monster at the Window<strong>

Dark rain pattered against the glass of the window. No wind blew. Despite the falling rain, the night was very still. The yellow light of the apartment felt very heavy. Rowan sat staring at the journal again. It lay open at a fresh spread of pages.

Three weeks had now passed since Remus' departure, and she'd still had no word from him. It was February 14th – Valentine's Day. The holiday had never meant much to her or to her and Remus as a couple, but with the resounding silence of his absence, she now felt lonelier than ever. As she gazed at the smooth white pages, she gave into the dark voice in the back of her mind – _will I ever see him again?_

Her "mission" of sorts with Barty Jr. had been, on paper, fruitless. Though they both knew what the other was, the small Muggle contraption that Frank had placed in her bag had simply documented what seemed like a tense conversation between former lovers. There was no proof of Barty Crouch's Death Eater alliances. There was no proof of Rowan's involvement with the Order. They simply just knew. All they could do was keep an eye out for him.

But after that afternoon, he'd completely disappeared with a trace.

Mad-Eye had not been pleased. When she'd returned to Headquarters with her lackluster recording, he'd grunted and groaned at the lack of evidence, and when news of Barty's disappearance had reached them a few days later, he'd screamed and raged that she should have called immediately for someone that first day – he would have found _something_ with which to pin him. And yet, Rowan couldn't find it within herself to feel the same.

Indeed, she wasn't sure why she had such apathy towards Barty Jr. or his mysterious disappearance. The last time she'd seen him the October prior, he'd frightened her with his intensity. Her gut told her that he was the murderer within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – she should be out there hunting him down. After all, he had most likely killed numerous Ministry captives and obstructed justice in direct opposition of his profession. He could be out there hurting more people. And yet, she couldn't find it within herself to care. A part of her whispered that he probably didn't care much anymore either.

Perhaps it was because all of her energy had been spent worrying about Remus' disappearance. Perhaps it was because she was tired of the war. But as she remembered the strange crooked smile that played on Barty's lips as he sat across from her in that quiet corner of their old café, she found all of her burning vindication lost. He had seemed just as tired as she. Perhaps they were all tired.

What was she even fighting for anymore? If Remus truly _was_ gone, what was her motivation for continuing? Sure, she'd developed stronger bonds with her friends and allies than most could understand, and yet, those relationships paled in light of Remus' disappearance. She'd lost her father, her mentor, a mother figure, and numerous friends, and now perhaps the love of her life – all to this seemingly endless war. What was she fighting for?

As if answering her question, a silvery mass erupted from her table. Rowan yelped and leapt backward from her chair. It crashed to the floor with a shriek of wood, banging her knees as she stumbled and cursed. She thrust her wand forward reflexively but quickly dropped her arm as she saw the glowing mass solidify into a doe – _Lily._

"_Remus is here with us. He is safe. Please come."_

And with that, the doe craned its head high and seemed to cry out silently, whispering away until nothing remained. Rowan was left standing in the silence of her yellow kitchen, gripping her wand tightly. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart within her chest.

_Remus._

* * *

><p>James answered the door. Rowan noted that he looked very relieved to see her. He pulled her in quickly, glancing around the hallway before quietly shutting the door. He then turned and sized her up, wand still out and pointing at her. Rowan looked up at him with her mouth twisted in confusion.<p>

"You know the drill," he said gravely.

Rowan felt a pang of hurt but nodded in understanding. "I am Rowan Delacroix, your godsister and future godmother of your child. I have a scar on my elbow from falling out of the apple tree in my family's backyard when we were eight."

James nodded and lowered his wand before pulling her in firmly. He hugged her so tightly that her breath left her for a moment.

"Sorry," he apologized gruffly. Rowan nodded and hugged him back. She knew he hated these procedures just as much as she did. They were suffocating. He pulled away.

"He's in the living room with Lil. He's in poor form," he said quietly. Rowan's throat tightened momentarily, but she nodded and followed him into the apartment.

The Potters' flat was not particularly large, but somehow the 15 steps it took to reach their living room seemed like a short eternity. Her feet padded quickly against the wooden floors until they reached the bright open room. In the center stood a summoned hospital cot, and on it laid the thin form of her long-missing boyfriend.

"Remus," she gasped.

As soon as he'd seen her enter the room, he'd struggled to sit upright, holding his arms out open for her. Rowan rushed forward and all but threw herself at him. As her face hit his neck, the tears finally spilled, and she let out a small sob. Every anxiety and fear that had been eating away at her for the past three weeks seemed to break through as his warmth spilled into her. Her stomach seized as she choked back her tears. Her hands clung to his shoulders, and he held her to him like a vicegrip. They both gasped brokenly, breathing the other in with silent desperation. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd last seen him.

When his warmth had finally soaked into her fully, she pulled away. She brought her hands to his face. His eyes seemed too large. His sharp jawline seemed even more severe. It was covered with an uneven shadow of rough facial hair. His hair was a mess of tangles and mats, long and scraggly and unwashed. Along his temple was a deep gash. Dried blood coated his hair and crept down his cheek in rusty cakes. His bottom lip was cracked and swollen, covered in a thin film of dried blood. The skin beneath his left eye was blue and purple and puffy, swelling to the point where he could barely open his eye. Her fingers grazed it gently, lips trembling as his eyes melted with some guilt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice was a harsh rasp.

A small laugh bubbled at the back of her throat. She sputtered slightly. He smiled wryly.

"For what?"

Remus shrugged and grasped her wrists gently as her palms cradled his face. "I don't know. For worrying you, I guess."

Rowan laughed softly, humorlessly. "I'll think of something for you to do to make it up to me."

Remus smiled thinly and pressed his lips to the inside of her left wrist. The strange hair on his face tickled her skin. Her chest ached at the small gesture.

"_What do you think you're doing?"_

Rowan and Remus both looked up quickly to see Lily standing over them with an angry look. Remus cowered slightly under its force.

"I told you to not move! You're going to reopen all of the lacerations that I just closed up! _Lie down!_" she commanded angrily. Rowan cringed and turned back to Remus. His hands still held hers tightly. He gazed at her beseechingly, as if asking her to defend him. She smiled weakly and then pulled away from him slowly, rising from the bed. James pulled a seat up to the side of the bed, gesturing for Rowan to sit. She smiled gratefully at her friend.

Remus laid back down onto the bed cautiously, eyes darting between Rowan and Lily. In her hands, Lily held a sewing kit and large bowl of warm water. She placed them on the small table positioned next to the bed. As she set to work cleaning the dried blood from Remus' face, Rowan took the time to assess the damage done.

Her gaze slid down to his shoulders, over his chest. There were large, alarming blotches of red and purple and black all over his skin, ranging up from his hip to his shoulder. They reminded her of the terrible bruising that had painted her left side after the mission with the Boneses. His hands were blue and swollen. His left seemed to be broken. She noted that he lay in just his underwear, and a series of white gauzy bandages and tape decorated his chest, stomach, and arms. Even his thighs held a few shallower cuts that ran across them in angry red lines. His calves and forearms were a mess of razor thin cuts, which danced up and down his limbs. His skin was frighteningly pale in contrast to the scarlet gashes that marred his body. His muscles and tendons seemed much more defined, though at the sight of his jutting ribs, she realized that it was simply because he had lost weight. A few of them seemed to be stretching his skin at strange angles - they were clearly broken.

Rowan then looked to Lily. Her belly had begun to swell with her pregnancy. She counted out the months and noted that it had almost hit the four-month point. There were still at least five months to go, but she was well on her way. Rowan allowed a fond smile to break through as she watched her dear friend's vigilance and focus. Any child of hers would be incredibly lucky to call her its mother.

She then turned towards the soon-to-be father. Her brow furrowed as she saw James making his way around the room with his wand drawn. He was waving it slowly and muttering quiet incantations. A silvery glow seemed to coat the walls and then fade away. He was drawing protection spells.

"Remus, what happened?" she finally asked quietly. Remus looked up from watching Lily's daunting movements and met her gaze with a pained expression. Now that the blood was gone from his lip, she could see that it was a strange shade of red and purple. Lily also stopped for a moment and looked between them grimly. Remus looked back at her, and she sighed, setting back to threading another needle.

"You might as well start now. I can stitch you up while you speak," Lily said quietly. James pulled a seat up next to Rowan, finished with his protection spells.

Remus breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. His lips twitched with effort as he turned over his memories in his head. When he opened them again, he stared at the ceiling for another moment in silence, flinching slightly as Lily pulled away the first bandage at his ribs. She whispered a few soft spells at the wound – Rowan recognized it as an anesthetic charm – and then set to work stitching the wound closed. Remus didn't so much as wince. He breathed deeply as Lily pulled the thread of the first stitch tight; his eyes focused on a pinpoint on the ceiling. And thus began his story.

* * *

><p>I was in the north of Scotland, in a werewolf village called Gladaman. There's a large reservation secretly set aside by the Ministry specifically for the werewolf community. Gladaman is there. There are several tribes that occupy it, though the Gladaman are certainly the largest - about 60 people. Dumbledore sent me there to make contact with the tribe's Alpha, Ulfred, who is an old ally of his.<p>

I spent the first day and a half simply moving through this territory. It's like Hogwarts in that it's Unplottable so that Muggles and even wizarding folk don't wander into the area, especially during the full moon. I had to Apparate onto the border of the territory before moving into it, and then it took me a full day to maneuver through the woods and snow to find the Gladaman.

The political system there is fraught with violence. The Alpha is generally one of the oldest men and always the strongest. Anyone can challenge the Alpha's leadership through combat, and if the Alpha should fall, the challenger will take his place. Luckily, Ulfred was a reasonable man and a well-respected leader. He reminded me a bit of Fabian, actually. He welcomed me into the tribe as his guest; called me "Brother." I felt very fortunate to have him on my side.

Every week, there is a meeting held by the tribesmen to discuss the affairs of the community. They usually discuss mundane things like food supply and inter-tribe affairs, but during that first night, Ulfred allowed me to speak. I told them about the werewolves that had joined the Death Eaters – how they've been biting children and attacking even untransformed just for the sake of infecting others. I warned them that they would probably come to seek them out, to try to recruit them into their ranks and begged them not to follow.

Most of the tribesmen seemed horrified at the notion of werewolves intentionally biting anyone, let alone children. At first, it almost seemed like my mission had been pointless. But there was this one group… They didn't agree.

There were about four of them, led by a man named Ajax. Ajax… He was frightening. He was twice my size – more like a lion than a werewolf. He accused me in front of the whole tribe of trying to bribe them into submission. I tried to make my case, but eventually, Ulfred had to step in and end the conversation before it ended violently. We decided to continue the discussion the following night.

But the next day, a terrible group of men appeared in the village – just the men I'd warned them about.

There were three of them, each a seasoned werewolf. I knew immediately upon seeing them that they didn't belong in the village. And I recognized the trio's leader as Fenrir Greyback.

Greyback was… He was the one who bit me when I was a child, though that's another story. Greyback was the one who started the Death Eater recruitment of werewolves. He's a terrible, evil man – truly the most frightening man I've ever met.

Greyback appeared on my third day in the village. He immediately let his presence be known there, challenging not only Ulfred, but also anyone who spoke out against him. It was clear that he had come to recruit more werewolves for Voldemort's forces.

I obviously had to do something, but these men were so much stronger, so much more vicious. I was at a complete loss. I tried my hardest to at least convince the tribe to turn them away, but they offered much more than I could.

Ajax and his men were immediately swayed by them. Regardless of how false their promises, they were able to offer things that only another werewolf could understand – power, glory, revenge… They were able to speak to all the wrongs and injustices these men had suffered throughout the years for their conditions. There was no way I could argue against that. How could I? There are times when I want the very same.

Over the next few days, they gradually took over the village. Ulfred and a few of his loyal men stayed vigilant against them with me, but it wasn't any use. They outnumbered us at least five to one, and I'm no warrior. I couldn't stand beside these men and fight. Ulfred tried to convince me to leave, but I couldn't just abandon them either. I had no idea what to do.

And I couldn't contact you, Rowan. I didn't know what would happen, if I would be killed or taken. I tore out the pages of our journal as you wrote and burned them in case they were found. I couldn't risk them tracing it back to you. I wanted to write back. I wanted to tell you that I was still safe, but I couldn't risk it. I'm so sorry.

Then, after a week and a half, the worst happened.

I woke up in the middle of the night to hear screaming and clashes. When I came out of my hut, Ajax and Ulfred were fighting, surrounded by a crowd of half-cheering, half-horrified tribe members.

They didn't have wands. None of them did. It became clear to me there just how fortunate I am to be able to perform magic, let alone to have attended Hogwarts. No, these men were warriors in every sense – savage, almost. They fight with teeth and claws and spears and knives. It's terrifying.

Ajax had taken a bad blow to the face by the time I came out. His left eye was bleeding severely, and he was staggering. It was clear why Ulfred was the Alpha. Ajax was the larger man, but there was a certain finesse to the way Ulfred fought. He wasn't a small man by any means, but one could tell how much experience he had. He could read every movement and step from Ajax with an almost eerie ease. Each blow was parried and blocked and retaliated with such an incredible fluidity. I'd never seen anything like it.

But then one of Greyback's men appeared – I think his name was Antenor. He crept up behind Ulfred as he was backing Ajax into a corner. When I saw him, it was like all the air in my lungs had been sucked away. I tried to scream at him – to warn him. I'd pulled out my wand to stun Antenor, but by the time either of us was able to defend him, he had already stabbed Ulfred in the calf. And then it was too late.

Ajax took the momentary distraction to kick dirt into Ulfred's face. I was able to stun Antenor, but I couldn't save Ulfred from Ajax's next attack.

His head hit the ground almost at the same time Antenor did.

The rest was chaos. By the laws of the tribe, Ajax was the new Alpha, regardless of how dishonorable his victory had been. And with his victory came Death Eater control over the tribe.

But not only was I in grave danger for being a representative of the Order, I had also committed one of the greatest taboos – I had performed magic against a fellow werewolf. Violence against a Brother through physical combat is one thing, but to commit magic against another was one of the greatest crimes of the tribe. These men had turned their backs on the wizarding world, and one of the pledges that came with this freedom was freedom from magic. I knew I'd be killed if I stayed any longer.

Ulfred's daughter Cassandra helped me escape during the chaos that night by smuggling me through the village in a bale of hay. I was able to perform a series of Disillusionment charms on myself while making my way out of the village, but I couldn't convince her to come with me. I don't know what happened to her after that.

I spent the next week moving quickly through the rest of the werewolf territories to the other three tribes, warning them of what happened in Gladaman. I convinced some to go into hiding, but there were just as many others who wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't one of them, even from the start. I don't look anything like them. I don't speak anything like them. I can't fight or defend myself against these kinds of men. If I'd had Ulfred's word of support, I would have been given at least a platform to speak. Without him, there was barely anything I could do.

I didn't stay in one place for too long. I had no idea if Greyback and his men would come after me, and I didn't want these people to bear their wrath for harboring me. They knew who I was, and they knew I was in the Order. It made sense that they would come looking, and I was terrified of what they'd do if they found me.

In a week, I had managed to travel to all three other tribes and state my case. But while preparing to leave the last and make my way for the border of the territories, Greyback caught up to me.

He'd demanded that I surrender to him and his men at the threat of razing the village. Obviously the tribe wanted nothing to do with me after that, and I made no resistance. I gave myself up to them willingly. They took my wand and the knives Cassandra had armed me with as she'd helped me escape.

After beating and questioning me, the three spent the night in the small village. I spent the first few hours unconscious and tied up on the cold floor of the hut that they shared. They ended up drinking well into the night with the tribe's Alpha and didn't fall into bed until it was near dawn.

When I woke up from my stupor, I slowly began cutting my way through the ropes that bound me with a dull stone I'd found. Well, I guess it wasn't cutting, so much as just grinding away at the fibers. It took me hours – I don't know how long exactly, but it was well into the night and close to morning by the time I was done. Finally, I was able to unbind my wrists and ankles. They'd left me with only my blank journal, taking all of my belongings and even going so far as to snap my wand in half. I was completely defenseless.

I waited until the three returned at dawn. They were all quite drunk when they stumbled in. I pretended to be asleep and kept my arms and wrists together as if they were still bound, and they were luckily too drunk to realize any better. Once they'd fallen asleep, I made my way out the hut and ran out of the village.

I ran for as long as I could, headed south. I no longer had my map, so I couldn't be sure how far the border of the Unplottable territories was. All I had was my memory, which told me that I had at least two days – more likely three – until I reached a point from which I could Disapparate, and I knew that it wouldn't be long until Greyback and his men realized I was gone.

So I ran. By the end of the first day, I knew Greyback would be on my tail. I ended up seeking refuge in a forest that night, climbing up into a high tree to maintain a vantage point. I slept very little, and by the time dawn broke again, I was too wired to keep sleeping. So I continued onward.

* * *

><p>"That was two days ago," Remus concluded quietly. "And here I am now."<p>

Lily had ceased her stitching long ago, choosing simply to sit by him and listen to his story. The four sat in silence for a long stretch of time. Rowan had moved forward during his tale to clutch his good hand tightly, and he'd squeezed her hand back, almost painfully.

Finally, James broke the silence. "What will you do now?" he asked.

Remus shook his head slowly but kept his gaze up at the ceiling. "I have to report to Dumbledore," he said quietly, "but I couldn't keep moving. I just…" he trailed off. Rowan saw the pure exhaustion in his red eyes, in the sallow color of his skin. "I needed to rest."

James nodded. "That can wait till morning. Stay here the night," he said firmly.

Remus tiredly shook his head again. "No, I have to tell him tonight. I've been gone much longer than was planned already. And if Greyback followed me to London, he could track me here. I have to-"

"You're going to sit here and let me stitch you up – that's what you have to do," Lily commanded. She raised her wand again and set back to work on the next wound, whispering a few anesthetic charms over it. Remus shivered slightly as the chill of the spell settled into his skin but didn't dare move any further. Lily with a needle and wand was a surprisingly intimidating image.

"One more night won't change anything, and there's no way Greyback will find you here," James said, nodding in agreement with his wife's insistence. He paused to think for a moment. "I'll go now and give Dumbledore the general summary of what happened, and you can report to him in the morning. How does that sound?"

Remus looked up at James grimly. The tendon in his jaw twitched with effort, and Rowan could see the muscles in his stomach clench with some pain as Lily pierced through his skin with another stitch. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," he acquiesced. "Thanks, mate."

James simply nodded and turned. He murmured a quiet goodbye to Lily, who simply nodded vaguely but remained focused on her work. James disappeared from the living room and was followed with a quiet thud of the front door. He was gone.

The remaining three continued to sit in silence. Rowan still held Remus' hand, eyes trailing over his long legs. They looked as if he had walked through a sea of broken glass. How much had it hurt him to tell them that story? How much had he left out for their sake – for his? Her lungs seemed to be up in her throat.

Finally, with a flourish of thread and a flick of her wand, Lily was finished. She looked over her work once more with a solemn nod of approval before raising her wand over his arms and legs, muttering an icy green spell. Miraculously, all the tiny nicks and cuts that painted his limbs slowly closed up and disappeared. Though his skin was still marred with daunting bruises and thin white lines, not a single cut remained. Rowan was in awe of her friend's incredible skill.

"The smaller cuts on your arms and legs seemed to have healed up as expected. Those scars will fade in the next few weeks. But these other cuts," she said gravely, gesturing to the deeper gashes along his abdomen and thighs, "these won't heal the same. I can close them up, but they will scar. There's no dittany blend or spell that will remove magical wounds like these."

Remus simply nodded and smiled. "It's okay. Just another few to add to my collection," he said gently. "Thank you, Lil." His eyes melted with deep affection. Lily smiled back.

"Anything for you," she said sincerely. She then turned to Rowan. "You should spend the night here too. I imagine you have a lot to catch up on."

Rowan's mouth twisted with concern. "But he's wounded. I don't know if that's-" she started.

"Oh, he's fine. Those stitches are damn good, if I do say so myself," the redhead said cheekily. "Just don't do anything pervy, and he should be fine."

Rowan glared and blew a raspberry at her friend who simply laughed and sauntered into the kitchen with the now bloody bowl of water and her sewing kit. Rowan watched her go with her chest tight with gratitude. She couldn't imagine her life without that admirable woman.

She then turned back to Remus. He was looking up at her with a gentle, almost shy smile, which she returned quietly. He moved over a bit in the bed to make room for her. She slipped off her socks and then slid in next to him, maneuvering carefully to avoid applying pressure to any of his wounds, but he pulled her tightly against his chest anyway, wrapping a long arm around her shoulders. She smiled into his skin. He was home.

Lily's head appeared in the doorway one more time. "Lights out?" she asked brightly. Rowan nodded and smiled.

"Thank you, Lily," she said genuinely. She hoped Lily knew how grateful she was.

The redhead simply smiled and nodded before hitting the light switch. A comfortable darkness fell over the room, and Lily could be heard padding down the hallway quietly, followed by the soft sound of her bedroom door shutting. Rowan sighed into Remus' bare chest.

The two laid in silence again for a few moments, simply allowing the presence of the other to wash over them. Three weeks – it was barely a drop in the ocean of their time together, and yet, it had felt like a lifetime of loneliness. How could she bear to have him leave again? Would Dumbledore ever make him go on another one of these missions? Could she let him?

"I missed you," he whispered. His voice seemed to bounce through the darkness. She allowed herself to squeeze him just a little tighter.

"I missed you," she replied, "more than I can say."

The silence washed over them again. She wondered how he could still be awake after such an ordeal. Despite his story, she couldn't imagine how terrifying the past three weeks had been for him. He'd been totally alone out there, almost sure that he wouldn't come back alive. What if he hadn't escaped? She felt her eyes burn at the implications.

"Greyback – he's still out there," he whispered.

Rowan nodded gravely but didn't reply. Fenrir Greyback – the man who had infected Remus when he was just a small child. She couldn't imagine how terrible of a figure this man could be. Her mind was filled with images of snarling teeth and gnarled hands and scars. He loomed in her mind as a large, hulking presence. He remained faceless and yet more frightening than Lord Voldemort had ever seemed. She forced back the tremor of fear that threatened to shake up her spine.

"He was the one… I was four," Remus said quietly.

Rowan froze. Was he finally going to tell her?

"Remus, you don't have to-"

"No," he interrupted. "No, I _want_ to tell you… I need to."

Rowan let his words slide over her slowly, and then she nodded into his chest. Her heart felt as if it might burst.

Remus breathed deeply before beginning his second story of the night. His voice was a low, quiet rumble. It was raspy from the icy wind of the northern territories. It whispered of a different lifetime.

"Back then, Greyback was already an infamous werewolf, though his name was still unknown. There had been a rising number of children being attacked and infected by werewolves, presumably on purpose. Unfortunately, the Werewolf Registry back then was very inefficient. Most werewolves weren't recorded by the Ministry, so faces and names weren't necessarily matched with deeds and reputations.

"Greyback was, somehow, arrested and brought into the Ministry for questioning, but he managed to convince them that he was a homeless Muggle man. Because he was so filthy and lacked a wand, most of the Ministry officials believed him – all except my father.

"My father tried to convince the others to hold him overnight to ensure that Greyback wasn't, in fact, a werewolf. Being in the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, he saw all the signs of lycanthropy in Greyback, but he wasn't able to convince the rest of his colleagues. They ended up letting him go.

"But before they released him, my father insulted Greyback."

Remus took a deep breath, eyes glued to the ceiling. His grip remained tight on Rowan. Her breath seemed to come short.

"My father told him that werewolves were 'soulless and evil and deserving nothing but death.'"

Remus paused, and Rowan could feel a slight tremble simmer in his chest. Rowan's stomach clenched painfully. She heard the words leave Remus' mouth almost numbly, but they still dug into her with such force that her lungs seemed to collapse. She imagined kind, serious Lyall Lupin with his quiet demeanor. She couldn't picture such horrible words coming from such a good man.

_Don't think too poorly of me._

His words from November suddenly echoed back from deep within her mind, and heat surged up her neck and into her eyes. How much guilt he must carry with him! She gripped Remus even tighter.

"Obviously, this didn't sit well with Greyback, and it would come back to punish him later. Letting him go is my father's greatest regret.

"Shortly before my fifth birthday, Greyback found my family," he continued. His voice trembled slightly, and Rowan knew how this part ended with deep dread. "In fact, it was almost 16 years ago to this day – exactly a week from now," he said with a bitter smile. He paused again and took a deep shaking breath. Rowan's lips trembled.

"My parents found me screaming in bed with him on top of me. He wasn't transformed, but the damage done was enough. By the time my father was able to drive him away, I was already infected."

Rowan's tears began to fall. They seeped down her cheeks and onto his chest. She made no move to wipe them away, and Remus made no indication that he even felt them. They just held each other closer.

"And now, he's…" Remus started quietly. Rowan felt his chest tremble again, and her own tightened painfully in response.

"I'm terrified, Winnie," he whispered. "He's so much stronger than I am. And he's not just a werewolf – he can perform magic. He's terrifyingly strong." His voice shook with fear. "And he remembered! He remembers who I am! And now he has my face to go along with the name." His right hand left her and reached up to his face. He was crying.

"I can't face him again. I can't do it. How am I supposed to fight someone like that? He'll tear me apart!"

Rowan's face burned with shame. For three weeks, he'd been out in the wilderness facing the one man he feared the most. How could Dumbledore have sent him out there alone, knowing that men like Greyback loomed in the shadows? How could she protect him?

She struggled upward blindly. He looked up at her with confusion, his hand pulling from his face slowly. She leaned over him so that she could see him fully. She felt all the heat in her face burn.

His eyes were red and swollen and so tired. They glowed dully in the faint yellow light that spilled in from the hall. The rough shadow of hair that covered his face seemed to age him in an entirely new way. The new gashes that danced over his sides weren't likely to ever heal completely. She gave a silent promise to improve her dittany blend – if she had any say in it, he wouldn't have to add to his collection of scars ever again.

"You will face him again," she whispered fiercely. His eyes melted with fear at her words. The unadulterated horror there sent a wave of grief through her, but she pushed onward. "You will, but next time, I'll be there beside you. We all will." Her voice trembled, as did the line of his mouth, and her tears fell onto his cheeks. She couldn't be sure which were his or hers anymore. "We'll be there to fight with you next time. I promise. You'll never have to face anything like this alone again."

She choked back a sob as her eyes burned into his. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He reached up and pulled her face down. She pressed her mouth against his, both trembling against the other. She wanted to cry with joy and despair and anger and fear. What were they fighting for?

"I love you," she whispered fervently against his lips. "And I will be your greatest defender, no matter what enemies we face. I promise."

He nodded jerkily and held her against him tightly. She wanted her existence and his to blur together seamlessly. The separation of his form from hers was somehow painful. And as he kissed her again, the stillness of the rain was interrupted with the bright flash of lightning. The sound of thunder rumbled quietly in the distance.


	52. Of the Wizard Over the Wand

**A/N**: I think Ollivander is a really interesting character. He piqued my interest enormously when I first read the books as a kid, and the subject of wandlore still remains fascinating to me. I'd played with the idea of making an OC pursue a career in wand making, possibly as an apprentice to Garrick Ollivander, but it didn't fit this story. I'm considering it for the next. I guess it depends on if I can develop a relevant plot line for it.

**lovirosa:** Thank you! Yeah, I don't like crying men either, Remus included. I've had the misfortune of seeing numerous men cry, and it still makes me want to vomit with anxiety. Hopefully no more of that here.

**nessafly:** Hahaha THANK YOU! Your praise always hits me right in the feels. I wanna see more of Cassandra too, though I haven't decided where her character wants to go yet. It's awesome that you picked up on her character out of that chapter.

**misslak:** Eheheh _future children._

**SMGF1:** Hahaha I'm glad you approve of the abbreviation. And yeah, he's such a sad character. I still feel bad writing these kinds of scenes for some strange reason... It's not like he's a real person...

**DontTellMeImWrongBitch:** You changed your pen name! It's so aggressive now haha. I already thanked you the other day, but more thanks are always deserved when kind reviews are written! I hope you enjoy this one as well!

**wickedgrl123:** Is it wrong to be proud of making my readers cry? Seriously though, thank you so much for the review. I'm thrilled that the last chapter was able to touch you so deeply. I hope the story continues to move you.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 52: Of the Wizard Over the Wand<strong>

The young members of the Order of the Phoenix spent the days following Remus' return with bated breath. James and Lily had insisted that Remus and Rowan stay with them for a couple nights, as there was safety in numbers; however, although they had expected Fenrir Greyback to follow Remus back to London in pursuit, there had been no sightings of the werewolf anywhere near the city. In fact, Dumbledore's sources told them that he had returned to Gladaman soon after Remus' escape. Remus darkly confided in Rowan that Greyback most likely saw Remus as a messenger of sorts. They only hoped that Greyback's stay up north continued and wasn't a sign of more terrible things to come.

Dumbledore had not been pleased with the outcome of Remus' mission, but it had been expected, sadly. Try as they might, the werewolves lived in a world that was completely unlike their own. Even Remus was lost amongst them. It was a leap to have expected more than a handful to join, and while Remus had been able to convince some from the smaller tribes to go into hiding, there were still many more willing to fight against them.

Rowan was beside herself. Although she finally had Remus safe at home, he was once again in a place that she couldn't seem to reach, somewhere she didn't recognize. She was more than familiar enough with his self-loathing, his mourning, his anger, but this was an entirely new monster: _Fear_. She had seen his fear before. He had feared for her safety, for his future, for the darkness within himself. But _this._ It was not of self-preservation, not of defense. An embodied horror, the monster under the bed - it was real, and its name was Fenrir Greyback.

Greyback was more concrete, more terrifying than any Dark Lord or painful lunar ritual. He was isolation, spite, and self-hatred all in one body. He was the source of loneliness and the end of happiness. Rowan couldn't possibly understand what this man represented to Remus and the kind of terror that he had endured in the face of such a man. There were no comforting words or promises to give him. She was lost, groping blindly in the dark for any means of reaching him.

But this was beyond her. She had no place in this nightmare of his. She could fight beside him, but despite not being able to see it, the wall between them was substantial. She couldn't protect Remus from Greyback's hold. All she could do was wait for the cuts to dull and fade. She could only hope that they were allowed the time.

* * *

><p>Ollivander's Wand Shop was a strangely dark place. Rowan stood outside of the Diagon Alley location with Remus, her fingers laced with his tightly. The small shop seemed unusually daunting considering its size. She remembered how intimidated and nervous she'd been as a child coming to the shop for her wand, and it seemed just as mysterious now as an adult. Had it really been almost ten years since then? She felt her wand in her pocket. It was such a vital part of her now. It seemed to hum in response. Remus must feel lost without his, like a blind man stumbling along the busy streets. They shared a nervous glance. She felt Remus take a deep breath from beside her, and then they stepped forward.<p>

The door rang almost generically as they opened the door and moved into the dark space. There was hardly any light there. Even the sunlight from outside seemed dimmer as it crept through the tall bay windows. Rowan wondered if there was a reason for the lack of light. Perhaps it affected the wands and their reactions to potential owners adversely.

Remus' fingers slipped from Rowan's as he stepped farther into the shop. He looked almost like he were in a trance, as if being pulled by an invisible force. She watched him walk on vaguely but remained towards the entrance. Procuring a wand was an intimate experience, almost sacred. And his had been particularly special - the fact that he'd even _had_ a wand or been allowed to attend Hogwarts at all had been a nearly impossible blessing. She couldn't imagine how devastated he'd been seeing it snapped in half by the one man who had nearly stolen even the opportunity to use it. Just the very gesture of his asking her to accompany him to Ollivander's had spoken more to his trust and investment in her than any declaration of love or devotion.

She watched him wander slowly, eyes skimming over the high shelves of wood and magic. She could see his gaze searching almost beseechingly for his new partner. Her stomach was a tight bundle of knots. She thrust her hands into her pockets, feeling her own wand for comfort.

"Hello!"

A raspy voice echoed from the back room, followed by a tuft of pale gray hair. It poked out from behind the door. A pair of sharp silver eyes pierced through the darkness at them - Garrick Ollivander.

"Ah, Remus Lupin and Rowan Delacroix!" he exclaimed delightedly. His face lit up at the sight of them. He hopped out of the back room towards them. The entire space seemed much brighter suddenly. "It has been many years since I have had the pleasure of having you two in my shop! Almost ten years, I believe!"

Remus smiled and nodded, the anxiety leaving him a bit. "Yes, it's wonderful to see you again, Mr. Ollivander," he said warmly. Rowan nodded and smiled, stepping forward hesitantly.

Ollivander smiled kindly and looked between them. "I had _heard_ that you two were together. An interesting match! A _very_ interesting match!" He looked at Remus thoughtfully. "Cypress wood, unicorn hair core, 10 3/4 inches, pliable," he recited knowingly. He then turned to Rowan. "Cherry wood, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches, unyielding." He nodded like a bird as if agreeing with himself, his head bobbing up and down almost mechanically. "Yes, yes, I remember. Very interesting indeed," he mumbled. Rowan and Remus glanced each other questioningly but didn't say anything.

"So then, what brings you two to my shop?" Ollivander finally asked, looking between them, once again bright and engaging.

Remus grimaced. "My wand was stolen," he explained simply. He looked almost ashamed to admit it to the older man, and Rowan smiled thinly. It was strange to think about how personal such a simple possession could be, and yet a wand was like a bodily appendage. It was like admitting that he had lost an arm.

Ollivander gazed hard at Remus. It wasn't a harsh stab of judgment or the cloying weight of pity, but neither Rowan nor Remus could gauge what it was exactly. He seemed to be sizing Remus up, almost.

"I see," he finally said quietly. They expected him to ask how, but he remained silent. He scanned his eyes over Remus again. The young man shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny but held his gaze. Rowan watched the silent exchange raptly.

"Let me pull out a few options for you," he mumbled. He turned and walked over to a distant dark wall. The couple watched as Ollivander stepped up onto his ladder, which then slid efficiently to the far corner with a sharp _shhhnk_. He slid a hand over the wall searchingly before his hand landed on a seemingly unremarkable box and pulled it out from its place with a quiet whisper of wood. Rowan marveled at the man's otherworldly ability. She wondered if it was a skill developed over time or a natural gift.

The ladder then slid again, turning a corner onto the next well. He stepped down a couple of steps and scanned over the shelf carefully. His long fingers slid over the shelf as if speaking to the wands through his hands and then pulled another box out carefully. He then stepped all way down and crouched down low, his pale hair lowering nearly all the way down to the floor. His fingers danced along the ground and flitted to one more space on the very bottom row. He pulled the last box out and then stood, turning back to face Remus.

"Try this one," he said, opening the first box.

Inside sat a light wand that looked very similar to Remus' old wand. He pulled it out delicately, holding it in his hands and feeling its weight and grain. Remus looked at it fondly, as if remembering his prior partner, but Ollivander seemed displeased.

"Hmm... So the cypress is unresponsive now... Interesting... Very interesting," he murmured. He took the wand from Remus' hands delicately and placed it back into the box. The box floated from his hands and gracefully slid back into place in its far corner. Remus gazed after it almost longingly.

"Try this one next," Ollivander said, handing him another.

This wand was a dark, rich brown wood with an ornately carved handle. Rowan disliked the look of it, but Remus handled it just the same way as he had with the first. Nothing happened, once again. Ollivander's eyes widened and then hurriedly took the wand back without a word. He didn't even close the box back up before opening the next with excitement.

"Oh, _very_ interesting. Yes... _yes._ So that should mean..."

As soon as Remus touched the third, red sparks flew from the tip of the wand. He yelped slightly and jerked his hand upward with surprise as the sparks burst forth. Scarlet light filled the dark, cramped shop, illuminating the high walls of small boxes and old Ollivander's face. His pale silver eyes reflected the light with a sort of strange mania. His face pulled with elation, lips stretching widely into an ecstatic grin.

"Wonderful! _Wonderful!" _he exclaimed, applauding delightedly. Remus smiled with quiet awe as he looked over this new wand - his new partner. He seemed to be unaware of Rowan or Ollivander. Rowan's chest was tight with wonder as she watched the glow in his eyes.

The sparks eventually died down, and the darkness of the shop returned, but a quiet electricity remained in the air. Remus held the wand gently, looking over it carefully and running his hands up and down its smooth handle. It was of a beautiful, pale wood with fine lines and a simple handle. The wand curved irregularly in two kinks. It looked like it could have been taken from the tree just the day before.

"Pine, phoenix feather, 11 inches, very springy," Ollivander explained quietly. "It will be a great deal pickier than your last wand. It is an intriguing contrast. Cypress and pine... Very intriguing."

Remus frowned and tore his eyes away from the wand to look at Ollivander. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Ollivander met Remus' gaze steadily with a careful expression. "I would think that there's been a change in your destiny, Mr. Lupin - a very vast change," he said cryptically.

Remus' frown deepened. He stared hard at the old wandmaker. "I don't understand."

Ollivander shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't give you any definite answers, young man. Time will be sure to tell," he said.

This was a strangely troubling response. Remus looked back to the wand. The excitement from before was now replaced with heavy apprehension. He turned the wand over delicately in his hands. _The wand chooses the wizard - _that was what every modern wandmaker said. What did this say one about Remus? Rowan watched him warily. A change in destiny... she could only hope that it was a change for the good. She gripped her own wand in the pocket of her robes. It seemed to vibrate in response. She prayed that she would never have to part with it.

"Pine and cherry - another interesting match," Ollivander murmured. He stared openly between the two of them. There was a sharp quality to his gaze that Rowan found disarming. She shifted nervously.

"Pine over cypress... Phoenix tail over unicorn hair... I expect to hear of interesting things from you, Mr. Lupin," the old wandmaker said.

Remus stared hard at his new wand, this new life partner. Rowan felt him enter another far off place she couldn't reach. She could only hope that this wand might help bring him back to her.


	53. Of Full Circles

**A/N**: Not a huge fan of this chapter, which is sad b/c Ron Weasley deserves better. But honestly, I'm kinda just ready to move onto the big stuff. Sorry, Ron. Shafted again.

Also, did you catch that Mexico vs. Brazil game? CRAZY. GO, TEAM KOREA! GO, TEAM USA!

IN A HURRY. WILL RESPOND TO REVIEWS NEXT UPDATE.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 53: Of Full Circles<strong>

"_MERLIN, FUCK!"_

Rowan flinched as the walls of the Burrow shook under the force of Molly Weasley's screaming. She sat on the wooden floor of the Weasley's living room with Fred and George, both of whom wore heavy earmuffs to mask the sounds of their mother's spewing vulgarities. The two seemed delighted by the vibrations in the floor and played with their earmuffs, alternating between holding them down and then lifting them to let in a strange rhythm of silence and screams. They giggled and clapped their hands and sometimes even mimicked the strange groans and shrieks that came from the upstairs bedroom where Molly was currently in the throes of labor. Rowan grinned awkwardly – it was disturbing to hear toddlers making such noises, but also strangely amusing.

Though Rowan remained rather unperturbed by the eerie sounds emitted from above, one could not say the same for Remus, who sat beside her. He was quite pale in the face and quiet, cringing with each cursing tremor that echoed down the stairs. Between him, Molly, and the twins, Rowan was torn between a strange mixture of amusement, pity, and apprehension.

It was March 1st. The past two weeks had passed quietly since Remus' return home, and Rowan was quite glad for this cut of light into their somber days. Remus had steadily been pulling himself from the blank stares and dark days, but Rowan had insisted still that he withdraw from Order business for some time to recover, both physically and mentally. Though his numerous broken bones and bruises had healed with the help of Lily's meticulous care, the memories of the pain and violence that had been seen and suffered were not so easily erased. Rowan had found herself shaken awake by his night terrors on more than a few occasions, and the distant looks he'd taken on during the day in his silent moments were frighteningly reminiscent of darker days – days that had once taken him away from her.

The quiet fears from the year before crept back out dauntingly from the shadows. Though he had made no move to avoid her like two autumns prior, she still wasn't able to shake the terrible premonition that there was still more to come. And with Garrick Ollivander's cryptic words still fresh in her mind, the suspicions felt heavier than ever. Though he had shared his deepest fears and shames with her that first night in the Potters' flat, he hadn't opened up to her again about his disastrous mission. She couldn't help but wonder what other terrible things he'd witnessed amongst the Gladaman werewolves. How many had died? What happened to those poor children? She could only hope that Greyback's presence would fall back into the shadows. Perhaps they could survive the rest of this war without facing him again.

"_YOU DID THIS TO ME! ARTHUR! YOU BASTARD! YOU DID THIS!"_

Rowan was jerked from her dark thoughts as the house shook again. Remus cringed and squeezed Rowan's hand painfully as Molly's shrieking curses echoed throughout the house. Rowan grinned at his surprisingly squeamish reaction, to which he could only glare back weakly. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"You're going to have to nut up eventually, you know. What will you do when it's my turn?" she teased.

Remus turned a strange shade of green. "I'll… you…" he sputtered. He closed his eyes and leaned into her with a heavy look of nausea. He took a deep breath. "I'll manage somehow."

Rowan laughed and leaned her head against his affectionately. It was such a simple response – silly almost – but it sent a wave of relief through her. That distant future together was still there.

"_Sirius! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"_

Rowan sighed as another female voice shook the Burrow. There was a crash and a girlish squeal followed by a few childish snickers. Rowan could deduce that whatever Mina had thrown at Sirius had made contact, much to the amusement of Charlie. Then there was a banging slam from the kitchen. Rowan and Remus both jumped to see Mina standing in the doorway, looking livid and brandishing a wooden spoon like a weapon.

"Get out! _Now!"_ she screamed.

A very contrite Sirius scampered out of the kitchen followed by a giggling Charlie, holding a few dragon figurines. Sirius was rubbing what looked like a growing welt on his forehead. Beyond the doorway in the back of the kitchen, Rowan could see James holding Percy in his lap at the table. He was rubbing the four year-old's back consolingly as the little boy sniffled and whimpered. Mina threw one last glare at her boyfriend and then slammed the door shut.

As soon as Charlie saw Remus and Rowan, his face lit up. He came galloping over to them and plopped himself onto the floor next to Remus with a grin, still clutching his toy dragons.

"_Sirius is in so much trouble_," he faux-whispered conspiratorially.

"Siri is trouble with Mee-nah, Row!" George echoed to Rowan in a loud whisper. He had discarded his earmuffs once again. Rowan smiled and nodded, giving up on the earmuffs.

"Yes, Sirius is in trouble with Mina. Very good, Georgie," she said back slowly. George beamed at her praise.

Sirius sat down next to the twins and glared at the eight year-old. "Shut up, you little prat," he hissed at Charlie. "I got in trouble because of _you."_

Charlie cackled maniacally and waved one of his dragons in the air at the twins, who both giggled and groped after the toy. Charlie grinned and held the dragon up. A flash of red fire shot from the dragon's mouth. The little boys squealed with delight.

"Chahlie! More fire!" Fred exclaimed. He had also removed his earmuffs, which were now hanging strangely from his head like a skewed crown.

Remus frowned. "Is that really a safe toy for a child?" he asked warily, shrinking back slightly at the sight of the toy.

"That's exactly what I said!" Sirius exclaimed with some annoyance! "He was waving that thing around like a da- – _darn -_ flamethrower, and of course, Percy freaked out and started crying. So I grabbed the toy from him, and Mina thought that it was _me!_" He glared daggers at Charlie who only grinned back.

"Who even gave those to you?" Rowan asked with some apprehension. She pulled Fred back gently into her lap as she saw the toddler reach for one of the dragons.

Charlie grinned again. "Uncle Gideon," he replied smartly. He then waved the other dragon around and let out a loud roar. Sirius groaned and buried his face in his hands. Remus grimaced.

"We'll have to tell Arthur when they're done. I doubt Molly would let him have something like that if she knew what it did," he whispered to Rowan. As if on cue, there was another wailing cry from upstairs. Rowan cringed and nodded in agreement as they eyed Charlie carefully. He sprawled out onto the floor with Fred and George and began speaking in funny voices through the dragons to the toddlers. They both giggled conspiratorially.

Suddenly, a strange smell hit Rowan's nose. She sniffed the air carefully before her face scrunched up with discomfort.

"Which one of you farted?" she asked the twins. Fred turned towards her and grinned cheekily.

"Me! I pooted," he declared proudly. Remus snorted.

"Need to go potty?" he asked the little boy. Fred nodded enthusiastically. Rowan sighed and moved to get up, but Remus put a hand to her shoulder. She looked over to see him smiling gently and already standing with Fred.

"It's okay. I'll take them," he said to her. He then turned to George. "George, do you need to go, too?"

George also nodded and leapt to his feet.

"Time for toilet!" he exclaimed.

"We go together," Fred said, reaching a chubby hand out to his brother. They clasped hands clumsily and then ran off towards the toilet giggling. Remus sighed and jogged after them. Rowan watched the three of them run off with great affection.

She then turned to see that Sirius was also staring after them with a concentrated expression. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something.

"Don't hurt yourself there, champ," Rowan teased.

Sirius looked up with surprised to see her smiling questioningly at him. He glared at her for a moment before falling back into his thoughtful silence.

Charlie announced to the room that he was going to go look for Bill and wandered off with his dragons, leaving Rowan and Sirius in the room to their silence. He still seemed lost in thought, and Rowan's mind wandered here and there before settling back on her friend.

It was rare for them to be alone and not speaking. Though they often fell into a comfortable silence, this felt different. Sirius seemed very preoccupied with something and kept staring back to the kitchen. Was he feeling guilty about angering Mina still?

"Everything okay?" Rowan asked finally.

Sirius jerked up in surprised and turned towards Rowan again with that confused expression. Rowan gave him a concerned look but didn't push him any further. She saw his brow twitch with effort before he finally responded.

"Are you and Moony going to get married anytime soon?"

Rowan's eyes widened with surprise. She hadn't expected that, of all subjects, to be bothering him.

"No, probably not," she answered carefully. "I mean, we've talked about it. It'll happen eventually but probably not for a while. Why do you ask?"

Sirius looked hard at her again, eye twitching slightly. He seemed to be searching for the words to say.

"Will you have children?"

Rowan's brow furrowed. "That's the plan, eventually. Is everything okay? What's with the sudden interest?"

Sirius breathed deeply and leaned back against the couch. His head fell back slightly as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn't answer for a while. When Rowan had finally decided that he just wasn't going to answer, he spoke again.

"I want to propose to Mina."

Rowan's stomach seized. She sat upright and turned towards her friend. His gaze still remained on the ceiling.

"Sirius, that's fantastic news. Why are you so depressed about this?" she asked in rushed, quiet tones. Her heart was about to burst. Why was everything so quiet?

Sirius just remained listless. "I don't think she'll say yes," he said quietly. His brow twitched again.

Rowan stared hard at Sirius. She scoured her mind for every memory she had of the two together and every conversation she'd ever had with Mina regarding her relationship with Sirius. Since they'd graduated, she hadn't been as open about her private life as she had been while in school, but she'd never made any indication that she had doubts regarding her relationship. They'd even been living together for nearly two years now! Wasn't marriage the logical outcome?

"What makes you say that?"

Sirius just shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he replied. Every muscle in his face seemed to be focused on sorting through this issue. "I mean, we've never really talked about it – she's never been the kind of girl to settle down with just one guy for long. It took her years to even give me the light of day, and I don't even know how many boyfriends she had before then. I couldn't believe she'd agreed to go out with me at all, and then to move in with me? And then she's doing so well in the Auror Department. She won't want to take a leave if we decided to have a family. She'd definitely choose her career over me. And it's not like she's into kids either. And seriously, what kind of father would I make? I'd be the shittiest dad in all the wizarding world. I mean, did you see James in there with Percy? Even _he's_ getting his dad shit together. If I can't even deal with a four year-old, how can I hope to be a godfather? How can I hope to be a _real_ father?"

Rowan gaped slightly as his thoughts spilled and splashed around them. She'd never even considered that Sirius Black could have reservations about his relationship with Mina or concerns over fatherhood. Mina and Sirius had never seemed at all worried or troubled about their dynamic. Sure, they weren't the most outwardly affectionate couple and they bickered frequently, but that was just how they were. They never argued about anything serious, and they always went home together hand in hand. How long had these insecurities been eating away at him?

"Sirius, you need to talk to her about this. I can't answer any of these questions for you," Rowan said quietly.

Sirius breathed deeply again. "I know," he said, more to himself than to her. He still stared up at the ceiling.

"But you know," Rowan started carefully, "everything you just said… It reminds me of this conversation Mina and I had in school during our Seventh Year, right after I caught you too hooking up in the Owlery."

Sirius didn't look at her, but his lips twitched with some amusement at the memory. Rowan smiled softly.

"She'd fancied you already at that point for a while – did you know?"

Sirius' brow furrowed with confusion but didn't respond. His eyes were focused hard on some point on the ceiling she couldn't see.

"Almost an entire year – but she was too scared to tell you. I told her to talk to you about it, but she was sure you'd freak out, that you wouldn't want anything to do with committing to her. She said that she'd be 'the mockery of the whole house' or something like that."

Sirius finally looked over at her with a look of alarm. "But I'd fancied her for years! How could she not know that?" he exclaimed. Rowan could see a flicker of anger there.

She nodded in agreement. "I know. That's what I said, but she was sure that it had all just been a game for you, that you were too much of a playboy to ever commit to one girl, let alone to her. But she kept going along with whatever arrangement you had at the time because she wanted whatever she could get from you, even though she thought you were just using her," she explained slowly. Sirius' face screwed up with guilt. Rowan knew that telling him this was probably going to piss off Mina, but she hoped it'd be worth it in the end.

"You see? You two are so stupidly similar. If you would just talk to each other about this kind of stuff, you wouldn't have these misunderstandings," she said. "So just talk to her. If she doesn't want to get married, then don't get married. If she doesn't want kids, then don't have kids. Getting married doesn't mean that you love each other anymore than you do now, and having kids isn't for everyone. If you don't want to have children, that's fine. You're still a family. Fuck what anybody else says."

Rowan's words seemed to sink into Sirius slowly. She watched the muscles in his face relax slightly one by one until she could see the comprehension melt over his features. His frown remained but he nodded slowly.

"You're right. Thanks, Winnie," he said quietly.

Rowan smiled. "Of course," she replied. "And you and I are going to be kickass godparents. So stop bitching."

Sirius snorted, and finally, a smile spread across his face. "Yeah… yeah."

Suddenly, a long, shrieking wail echoed down the stairs and throughout the house followed by a loud shout of pain that sounded like Arthur. Rowan and Sirius jumped and looked around dumbly before breaking out into broad grins. The sound of a baby's cries rang out loud and clear. Another Weasley had been born.

"_It's a boy!"_ came a muffled cry.

Sirius let out a barking laugh. "HA! A FUCKING BOY!" he bellowed. Rowan laughed as well, her chest swelling with great warmth. Poor Molly. Maybe next time she'd get that girl.

* * *

><p>And so was born Ronald Bilius Weasley.<p>

About an hour later, Arthur came down the stairs presenting his newest son, wrapped in a pink baby blanket. His face was coated with a thin sheet of sweat and a strange series of scratches along his forearms that looked disturbingly like the result of clawing fingernails, but the glowing look of pride on his face outshone it all.

"I'd been so sure it was going to be a girl this time!" mourned Molly. "I guess we'll have to put the girl's clothes away for now." Still, the tired look of motherly pride on her face had not been one of disappointment. Rowan could only hope that one day she'd have just as much to be proud of.

Another small boy with flaming red hair, "Ron" was the first newborn Rowan had ever seen. She could already tell that he'd look like Arthur. He already had his blue eyes and nose. She wondered which older brother he'd take after most. As she saw the small twins looming over their new baby brother with skeptical glares, she grimaced inwardly – she had a feeling there would be some tension there in the future.

Lily had been the Healer to oversee the delivery and was now collapsed tiredly on the couch, hand cradling her swelling stomach. James hovered over her with drinks and snacks and blankets with concerned looks and a steady flow of rambling anxiety. Rowan grinned with amusement as she watched Lily swat him away with some annoyance. She could only imagine how much worse James would get with the coming months.

Remus was quiet throughout the rest of the evening, electing to occupy the twins and keep them out of trouble. After coming out of the kitchen from helping Mina prepare dinner, she found him in the corner of the living room with both in his lap and a large copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard. _Little Percy sat beside him as well, listening intently.

Rowan couldn't hear which story Remus was telling from his muted tones, but as she watched his face twist into silly expressions with presumably just as silly voices, the boys' faces all lit up with delight. Rowan's chest tightened almost painfully. The thought hit her quietly and with so much warmth that her breath left her for a moment: she'd have this for herself one day – with him.

Remus suddenly looked up, as if feeling her gaze on him, and smiled quietly at her before returning back to the book. The boys didn't seem to notice and continue listening with great rapture. Rowan had to shake herself before heading back into the kitchen.

* * *

><p>At the end of the evening, Rowan and Remus tiredly stepped out into the cold together and headed back to his flat. As they walked down his quiet street, Remus took Rowan's hand in his and laced his fingers in hers. She looked up at him fondly. He smiled.<p>

"What're you looking at, Delacroix?" he asked softly.

Rowan shook her head. "Nothing. Just happy," she said.

He squeezed her hand, and she sighed contentedly, leaning into him slightly as they walked. She hummed vaguely and gazed up at him again. The last full moon had been hard on him. The waning moon glowed blue against his skin. It was almost cruel how the soft light illuminated his face so kindly, devoid of his tired lines.

"Sirius is thinking about proposing to Mina," she said lightly.

Remus frowned. "Really?" he asked carefully. "He never mentioned anything to me about it."

Rowan smiled softly. "I don't think he's told anyone about it. I sort of pulled it out of him earlier while you were in the toilet with the twins."

Remus nodded vaguely. "I see," he said quietly. "You do seem to have that effect on people." He seemed to think hard for a moment. "What about you?" he asked.

Rowan looked up at him with confusion. "What about me?" she echoed.

Remus' mouth twisted with concentration. She could see that tendon in his jaw twitch slightly. His pace slowed as if he needed the energy to focus on his thoughts. Rowan looked up at him with concern. Finally, he stopped.

"Would you want to get married… like soon?"

Rowan's lungs seized. She gaped at him dumbly. He seemed to wince at his poor choice of words.

"It's not a proposal! I just mean… I don't know… shit… _Shit,_ what the hell am I saying?" he rambled.

Rowan stared disbelievingly as he fumbled for control over his train of thought and mouth. He ran an anxious hand through his hair and looked around wildly for some sign of what he was supposed to say. He looked like he might scream with frustration at any minute.

A giggle bubbled at the back of Rowan's throat.

Remus stared with alarm at her as she fought to keep the grin from her face. She wasn't quite sure why she was laughing, but the enormity of the wave of relief that washed over her was almost overwhelming. They'd been together for how long now? She wasn't even sure anymore. It had been years, and yet he was still so clumsy with such matters. She still saw the deep lines of his inner turmoil on his face from the events of the past month, and yet, his current fluster was so endearing, so familiar. Despite all that had happened, he still wanted to marry her. She felt very warm against the early March chill.

"Remus, we could get married tomorrow or in 10 years. It wouldn't make any difference to me," she said fervently. Remus' mouth twitched slightly as her words sunk in. "As long as I know that you're mine and you're here to stay, no certificate or ring will change anything about the way I feel about you."

Remus' eyes burned into her. He took a deep, ragged breath. His hands gripped hers tightly to the point of discomfort. She smiled gently and leaned into him, breathing him and the cold night air into her lungs. His hands slid up her arms and wrapped tightly around her shoulders, holding her to him as he buried his face into her hair.

"Soon," he whispered. "I promise it'll be soon."

Rowan nodded into his chest and squeezed him back. His heat seemed to spread from her heart to the tips of her toes. She closed her eyes.

"I know."


	54. Of Strength in Numbers

**A/N: **Things are starting to get exciting! Also, Alfred is a character I'd hoped to develop more but never found the right time or place to. Pretty upsetting, really.

**MaddieRose:** AH THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm so happy to hear that you've enjoyed it. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I hate the Mary-Sue trope, so I am _thrilled_ that you find that Rowan doesn't fall into that. Thank you, thank you so much for the fantastically kind review!

As for the Marauders, they've all turned or will be turning 21 in the next few chapters. I fucked up the timeline somewhere along the way - Harry should have been born a year ago in the story, but I somehow shifted a year in there while setting my outline... It really bothers me, but I've come too far now to go back and change it all.

As for the character analogies to actors, I'm a little unusual in that it's very rare for me to relate characters in literature to celebrities. I find it difficult to put a famous face to a character I've developed a bond with, even if there is a movie based on the book - something about it is too intimate to me for some reason. I don't know how to better explain it. I can definitely see why fans would find Andrew Garfield as a compelling medium, but I personally think he's too short and pretty to be Remus. I imagine him as someone taller and lankier and not so classically good-looking.

**SMGF1:** Haaaa you're getting ahead of yourself. Not ready to give any spoilers yet! Things will become clear soon!

**misslak:** Ah, I love writing about the Weasley kids, so I'm glad you enjoy reading them! And yes, poor Freddie :( I think I cried more during that scene in the book than when Dumbledore died. But as for your previous review, yes! Certain things will definitely be different for Remus from canon heh. Thanks for the reviews, as always!

**nessafly:** Hahaha thank you! I'm so glad you like the idea and can kinda see where I'm going with this! I still haven't figured out a way to work that out, but maybe you can give me some ideas...? ^^

**WalkingInAWinterWonderlandxx:** Hahaha thank you! Things are starting to get exciting! I'm freaking out too!

**Lady Syndra:** Thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this one!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 54: Of Strength in Numbers<strong>

Spring crept into London slowly, and March passed into April with little event, much to the relief of the Order. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Aurors remained busy, especially with Barty Crouch Jr.'s continued missing status, but the number of reported murders had actually decreased slightly. The young Aurors were grateful for the slight reprieve, though Moody insisted that it was much too good to be true - trouble would be coming soon.

With Barty's disappearance also came a halt in the murders of the captive Death Eaters. It all seemed very obvious now that he was, in fact, the murderer they'd been pursuing, though the Ministry was doing a decent job in keeping the story from the public. They all suspected that Barty Crouch Sr. wanted to smother it before it hurt his chances at Minister of Magic.

Remus had returned to work at the I.C.E. about a month and a half before, and the regular schedule seemed to be proving well for him. Rowan had also returned to her research, spending long hours in Delacroix Manor's basement. As Isaac D'Este had promised, he'd supplied her with as much funding and lycanthropic mice as she'd needed. Her current permutations were very close to what she and Belby had been working on before his death, and she was confident that she'd be able to publish by the end of the year. The very idea was electrifying.

The notes that she had found in Belby's flat in February held a certain weight in her mind, however. The strange obsession she'd had over the Bakony Lunar Flowers from her master's memories was not unfounded - one look at his old notes was enough to confirm that.

She'd returned back to his flat once more before Remus' return and found some old journals of Belby's from all those years ago - journals filled with endless notes and research about various uses of these flowers. She scoured every library and book for more information about them but found that his research was unique. Why hadn't he published this information? There was much more to these flowers than a key to a lycanthropic cure. Each part of the flower - every oil and fiber extracted - seemed to hold a potential use. He had been incredibly thorough in studying every part of the plant, from root to petal to seed. Had Marie's death really been so traumatizing that he hadn't even considered publishing what he'd found?

But even with his detailed research, Rowan needed samples. She needed to see these flowers, to experiment with them with her own hands. But they were endemic to Hungary - she wouldn't be able to access them anywhere else. Could she really leave to go find this field of flowers?

She was a heavy participant in this war now, whether she liked it or not. She had obligations to not only the Order but also to her friends and family. She was going to be a godmother. She had Remus and her mother and Alfred. There were so many obstacles and reasons not to go, but the temptation of running away and leaving the war behind was seductive. She still hadn't mentioned her discoveries to Remus, but in those dark nights when he'd wake in fits of fear, the idea would creep forward - _they could go_. They could leave all of this behind - just the two of them. Wouldn't it be a happier life than continuing like this?

She shook herself. There was no use in thinking about all of this now. She first needed to publish her treatment before considering her next steps. Until then, she would continue fighting. She would stay.

* * *

><p>It was a seemingly normal April evening, but Rowan was a fit of nerves. She was hurrying around her lab, arranging files and test tubes and beakers and then rearranging them again. She needed everything to be absolutely perfect - Isaac D'Este was coming today.<p>

She'd finally reached a point where she felt confident enough to begin testing on humans. But it was still terrifying. She'd never tested on anything larger than a mouse, and this was no low risk potion. Each subject was a human, someone with fears and pain. If she made even the slightest mistake, she would be endangering them both. Every time the thought emerged, she'd be filled with heated nausea and the impulse to move or shift something. She couldn't sit still.

The full moon wasn't to arrive for another three weeks, but D'Este had thought it prudent to come and acquaint himself and his colleagues from the I.C.E. further with her and her space before then, which Rowan found logical. It also seemed right for him to meet Alfred and her mother, as they would be in their space as well. It was all very nerve-rattling.

"Whoa!"

Rowan shrieked as she smashed into a tall form and the rack of test tubes she was carrying flew from her hands. She yelped and grabbed after them, but they bounced and flipped and fell to the ground, shattering loudly. Glass exploded around her.

"Merlin, what has gotten into you?"

Rowan looked up to see Alfred glaring down at her with an exasperated expression. He pulled his wand out quickly and muttered, "_Reparo,"_ at the broken test tubes. The glass fragments pulled back together with a slight clink like a puzzle. Rowan grimaced.

"Sorry, I'm a fucking mess right now," she admitted sullenly. She stooped down to pick the tubes back up.

"Yes, I can see that," Alfred said, eyeing her warily as she set the tubes back down on her counter. "It's not like you're preparing for another exam, you know. I thought this was just an introductory meeting."

Rowan nodded and sat down tiredly on her lab stool and sighed. "I know. I'm just so nervous. After everything that's happened, I need this to go well. I've already lost so much time," she said.

Alfred nodded sympathetically. "You're going to be fine. All of your other experiments have been going smoothly. Your new subject is just a little bigger this time."

Rowan nodded. "I know," she said quietly.

She looked back up at Alfred. He had sat down at her desk and was gazing around the lab quietly. She noted the peppery tone of his hair, the tired lines beneath his eyes. He had just turned forty-one in January. She frowned.

"Do you think you'll always work for my mum?" she asked quietly.

Alfred looked at her and frowned. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

Rowan shrugged. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem like a job that really utilizes your talents. And it's not like you have to look after me anymore," she said. Alfred's frown deepened, and Rowan panicked. "Sorry, I don't mean that I want you to go! I mean... I just think that if there are other things you want to pursue, you shouldn't stay here just out of moral obligation to me and my mum, you know? You should do what you want!" she explained awkwardly.

Alfred looked hard at her, frown still remaining. "I've thought about it," he admitted. "Honestly, I thought this was going to be a temporary thing when I first started - didn't think I'd stay for more than a couple of years, but then I just stuck around anyway. I don't know what I'd do now even if I did leave though." His expression darkened a bit.

Rowan watched him thoughtfully. Alfred was certainly a talented wizard. He'd been a Gryffindor - her father wouldn't have wanted anyone else helping to raise her - and one of the top students in his year. His family had fallen on hard times after he had graduated, and he'd taken up this job, despite it seeming below his skill set, due to its comfortable pay and hours. She'd often wondered why he remained when Carole no longer needed his assistance in chasing after her and he no longer had anyone to support - she'd long grown out of her chaotic habits from childhood, and his parents had passed away several years ago. She supposed that he now felt attached to her mother and obligated to help her, especially now that Richard was gone. But shouldn't he pursue something more? Didn't he deserve it?

"You could easily find something else. You're definitely talented enough," she said encouragingly. "What did you want to do when you were in school?"

Alfred tapped his chin and thought for a moment. "I had wanted to be a teacher, honestly," he said. "Charms - I'd wanted to teach Charms."

Rowan smiled fondly. He'd always had a great talent for the subject. He'd often taught her flashy, fancy tricks and advanced spells during the summers when she was younger and home for the holidays. She would come back to Hogwarts and show off her new skills to Professor Flitwick. The tiny instructor had always been delighted.

"You don't want to do that still?" she asked.

Alfred sighed. "It's a little late now. I would've had to do some extensive research to acquire such a job, especially one at Hogwarts," he explained. He gave her a quiet smile. "Besides, I'm happy with where I am. I have a comfortable job, a new family. I have you."

Rowan's chest tightened painfully. She smiled back at Alfred. He was her family's butler, yes, but he was more than that. He was her uncle, her big brother, and her confidant all wrapped in one. She was very fortunate indeed.

But their warm moment was interrupted by the doorbell - that would be D'Este. Alfred shot to his feet.

"Shit!" he cursed, running for the stairs. Rowan's stomach seized, and she chased after him.

When they reached the door, Carole had already let in their guests. Lanky Isaac D'Este stood at the front with his wispy strawberry blonde hair and stoic face. His pale eyes scanned over the grand entrance of her house calmly. Behind him was a group of three, one of whom Rowan was pleasantly surprised to see.

"Fabian!" Rowan greeted happily. The stout redhead hopped up, peering over Isaac, to see her. His face broke out into a broad grin, brown eyes twinkling.

"Hello, girlie! Fancy seeing you here, eh?" he joked. He reached forward and pulled Rowan into a tight hug. Rowan gasped as her breath left her momentarily in his vicegrip. When he released her, she coughed slightly but grinned at the older man.

"I was unaware that you two were already acquainted," D'Este said, looking between them. Rowan looked at him nervously and then back to Fabian. She couldn't admit that they had met through the Order.

"Her boyfriend is one of my researchers. Sharp fellow he is - almost as sharp as this one here," he said, patting Rowan on the head affectionately. Rowan smiled with some mild embarrassment and relief.

D'Este nodded and looked at them thoughtfully once more but didn't say anything. He then turned towards his other two companions. They stepped forward to shake her hand.

The first was a small, curvaceous women with sleek, dark hair pulled back tightly into a large, high bun. Her robes were a deep green, long and flowing gracefully about her. Her eyes were large, round pools of ink, set into a handsome heart-shaped face with wide, dark crimson lips. She smiled warmly at Rowan, revealing a bright white smile that seemed to light the entire room. Rowan couldn't help but beam as she shook the woman's hand.

"This is Amrit Kohli, a very accomplished researcher at the Druid University of London. I am sure you have read her research on lycanthropic transformations," D'Este introduced. Rowan's eyes widened as she placed the face to the literature. She had indeed read all of Amrit Kohli's work. In fact, the first reports she had read while at Hogwarts had been by this woman. She was struck with awe.

"Professor Kohli, it's an honor," she said humbly.

"Please, just call me Amrit," the older woman said. Her voice was deep and smooth. Rowan felt even more in awe for some reason. "I've heard great things from Isaac about your work. I'm very impressed and excited to be working with you." Rowan nearly choked on her own spit. She couldn't believe that such a renowned researcher was complimenting _her._

The second stepped forward, garbed in pale gray. He was a muscular, broad man with a shiny bald head, bushy dark eyebrows, and a long, masculine face. He loomed over her intimidatingly. He must have been almost seven feet tall! Rowan nearly recoiled as his shadow covered her, but then he smiled. Like Amrit's, his smile was wide and nearly blinding. She was reminded suddenly of the Hogwarts Groundskeeper Hagrid.

"Lecso Farago," he boomed, taking her small hand in both of his mammoth palms. Her entire hand disappeared into his grasp as he shook it firmly. She felt like she could get swept away at any moment. "Healer-in-Charge of the Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward for Creature-Induced Injuries. Thrilled to meet ya!"

Farago's voice was gruff and rumbling. When he introduced his name, he spoke with an unidentifiable accent of rolling tongues, but the rest of his speech was unaccented. Rowan gazed up at him with poorly concealed wonder. This man was a healer! She couldn't imagine having this giant man caring for her in the hospital.

"Healer Farago is an expert on lycanthropic infection and bite treatment. He has made some interesting discoveries on the mechanisms of infection and transmission," D'Este explained evenly. Rowan's eyes widened once again in understanding and looked back up at the healer. She remembered seeing his name in some of the reports that she'd read over the years. It was hard to picture such a behemoth of a person hunched over quietly in a lab.

The soft clearing of a throat was heard from behind Rowan, snapping her from her reverie. She cringed slightly.

"I'm sorry. I'm being terribly rude. This is my mother Carole and her assistant Alfred Burke," she said, gesturing to her mother and Alfred. Carole stepped forward gracefully and shook hands with all individuals. Rowan grimaced slightly inwardly - she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to achieve her mother's level of refinement.

But Alfred stood back slightly. Rowan turned to look at him only to see that his expression was tight and awkward. She had to keep her face from screwing up with confusion. She had _never_ seen him looking so uncomfortable before. Alfred was smooth, sociable and charming at all times, no matter what the audience. Why was he being so strange now?

She then looked back to their guests to see Isaac staring back at Alfred with an equally puzzled look. His expression wasn't awkward or strained, but there was that thoughtful, assessing look with which he had gazed at Rowan when she had first met him in his office in January. She glanced as discreetly as possible between them, but no words were exchanged.

"Well," she said awkwardly, "I can show all of you down to my lab where we can begin discussing the experimentation process," she said stiffly, gesturing farther into the house. The three researchers all nodded and looked to her to lead the way. Isaac nodded vaguely but kept his gaze on Alfred, who looked strangely green.

"I'll bring you some tea in a few minutes," Carole said graciously. The party all thanked her before heading down to the lab with Rowan. Rowan took a deep breath.

_Here goes nothing._

* * *

><p>"... So we will begin next week at Amrit's laboratory. Provided that initial analyses go well, we can begin treatment testing the following week," said D'Este calmly.<p>

Rowan nodded and skimmed over the notes she had written throughout their meeting. After presenting her findings and a summary of her work with Belby, the group had fallen into an intense discussion of their next steps. All four of the other researchers had their primary professions to consider, so any work they did together would have to be conducted in the evenings and on weekends. Amrit had invited Rowan to work in her laboratory for reasons of cohesion and consolidation, and Rowan had agreed readily. The opportunity to work with a researcher of her stature was one that she couldn't pass up. She was eager to think of her as a new sort of mentor. She would begin moving her work the next day.

The plan was to conduct a series of analyses on the potions that she had developed the following week with Amrit and Lecso. Both were experts in different aspects of the lycanthropic condition and were interested in the relationships between Rowan's chemical research and their studies in the transformation process and pathology. Next, Rowan would begin injecting D'Este and whatever other subjects he could find with small doses each night for the week approaching the full moon. Fabian would then provide the extensive protective measures to allow them to observe D'Este during transformation. It was a very complicated, dangerous process. Rowan's stomach was tight with anxiety.

But she marveled at how easily she got on with this immensely impressive group of researchers. She already felt more than comfortable with Fabian - it was hard to not be fond of him, regardless of familiarity. Amrit was a calm, constant voice of reason, yet unabashed and tactfully forward with her opinions. Rowan was again in awe of the strength of her voice and could easily understand how such a relatively young woman could hold such a high position in a male-dominated field at the competitive Druid University. Lecso's large, domineering presence was strangely contrasted to his unexpected quiet involvement in the conversation. He spoke confidently with his large voice when necessary, but otherwise, he was surprisingly introverted, choosing to generally defer to Amrit's decisions. D'Este was, as expected, a quiet, even presence, but like Amrit, he was unafraid to voice his opinions. His staccato diction grasped Rowan's attention effortlessly, efficiently. She wondered if he was like that even in the privacy of his home.

"What is your ideal timeline, Rowan?" asked Amrit.

Rowan thought for a moment carefully. "If everything goes according to plan," she began carefully, "I was hoping to publish within the year. All of my tests with the lycanthropic mice have been very successful, so assuming that we transition smoothly to the human subjects, I think January would be realistic." It felt strange, yet thrilling, to say so out loud. She had been considering it for months now, but she hadn't been able to admit it to any of her friends or family - she was scared she might jinx herself. She looked around at all of them hesitantly.

Fabian was looking at her with fierce pride, excitement blatantly stretched across his features. Lecso looked thoughtful, as did D'Este, and Amrit was smiling warmly. Rowan's hands gripped her knees tightly. Heat pooled in her face.

"How do you plan to distribute?" D'Este asked.

Rowan blinked. "Distribute?" she echoed before stopping to think for a moment. "I suppose I'd want to reopen the apothecary," she said slowly. "It hasn't seemed timely to reconstruct it while in the middle of research - I wouldn't be able to keep it running properly - but once I finish the treatment, I'd like to offer free treatment. Having my own apothecary seems like the most logical base for that."

Lecso spoke this time: "Free?" he asked with some mild shock. "You wouldn't patent it?"

Rowan shook her head firmly. "No, I definitely want it to be free," she said fiercely. "I don't need to make a profit from this. Most of our potential patients are already struggling enough. I don't want them to have to pay. And if offering the information as public domain can present a greater chance of further research, then I'm all for it, even if someone else finds a cure first." She thought for a moment before her face heated again with panic. "But of course I would want to compensate all of you for your help! It may take me some time, but I definitely wouldn't expect you to just do all of this for free!"

She gazed around at all of them with her face burning and chest tight, but they all just smiled at her. Lecso leaned back in his chair with a soft approving smirk. He nodded his head as if impressed but said nothing.

"I don't think any of us expected compensation for this. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we would like to be acknowledged for our contributions when you publish, but beyond that, this is certainly _your_ work," Amrit said kindly. Rowan smiled shyly, but nodded in fierce agreement.

"Of course! I will definitely be sure to give all of you credit for your help! I still can't believe that you're willing to help me at all!" she blurted ungracefully. She then took a deep breath, face straightening. "I know this will be difficult logistically, but I really don't want to patent it. I have enough inheritance to support myself until I can make a profit margin from the apothecary. And I have the insurance money still from the fire to fund the reconstruction. I just don't know where to start."

"I will help you with that."

Rowan looked up to see D'Este gazing at her evenly. "I will find a law official through the Ministry to assist you in the legal matters regarding the apothecary. For now, you need not concern yourself with anything beyond your research."

Rowan's hands tightened on her knees again. "Thank you," she said quietly. D'Este nodded in that robotic way and then turned back to scratch down his notes without another word. Rowan decided she would pay a great deal of gold to be able to read his thoughts. She then perked up as she remembered something else.

"There is one more thing - after I finish the treatment," she continued. "I'd obviously like to continue my research to find a real _cure_. I already have a few theories and research leads, which I plan to follow once I have published... But I would need to go abroad."

This caught the team's attention. Rowan took in a deep breath. "Belby left me a very extensive collection of research that he had done many years ago on a plant called the Bakony Lunar Flower," she said. Lecso frowned slightly but said nothing. "It's very rare and endemic to a region in the Transdanubian Mountains in Hungary. Master Belby abandoned the research after his wife passed away, but I'm convinced that this flower holds a critical role in this cure. The problem is that I would need to go there to study and take samples of this flower... and I would need someone to remain here to distribute the treatment while I am away."

She gazed around at them. They all seemed lost in thought, eyes fixed on her. It was unnerving, to say the least.

"I know it's a ways off, but I just wanted to declare my intent before we continue in the case that you have any connections in Hungary who can assist me or friends within the Potion making community who can continue my treatment while I am away," she said.

They continued to be lost in thought. Rowan's hands tightened again. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything yet.

"I may be able to help you," Lecso said finally. The group turned to look at their large colleague. His hand was stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Let me think about it. Like you said, we have a good amount of time until then. I will approach the subject with you again before the end of the year."

Rowan smiled in relief and nodded. "Thank you. I really appreciate it," she said genuinely. He nodded and smiled softly but said nothing else.

_Maybe, just maybe_, she thought, _things are falling into place._ She allowed herself to really hope.

* * *

><p>After a couple of hours, D'Este and company left together in a flurry of warm goodbyes and excited chatter. She noted that D'Este took one last glance around the foyer before stepping out, as if looking for something. She wondered if he was looking for Alfred. As Rowan shook their hands goodbye - Lecso's twice - she closed the door quietly and nearly collapsed against it. A very deep breath escaped from her lungs. With it seemed to slip all of the anxiety that she'd been holding for the past week. She could probably vomit in relief.<p>

She made her way back to the kitchen tiredly. Rowan looked around to see her mother seated at the table, but Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Carole looked up over her small reading glasses as Rowan appeared in the doorway and set her papers down, a concerned expression on her face.

"You look like hell," she commented dryly.

Rowan rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Mum," she said dully.

"Did everything go okay?" Carole asked.

Rowan nodded her head tiredly. "Yeah, it all went fine. I'm just really tired now," she said.

Carole nodded. "So what's the plan?" she asked.

Rowan sat down at the table with an ungraceful plop. "We're going to begin testing next week. I'll be going to Professor Kohli's laboratory at Druid Uni starting tomorrow. We're hoping to publish within the year," she said tiredly. She thought quietly for a moment. "How much gold did Dad leave me?" she asked.

Carole looked up at Rowan with a frown. "More than you could possibly ever need, really. Why do you ask?"

Rowan looked down hard at her hands. Her nails were getting a little long for her liking. They felt dirty. She should cut them as soon as she got home. "I want to start rebuilding the apothecary. I have enough money from the insurance payment, but I'd like to add onto it I think. I just wanted to know how large my budget is before I began planning. Isaac says he's going to help me work through the logistics."

Her mother looked at her thoughtfully before nodding and turning back down to the files in her hands. Rowan assessed her for a moment.

"Would you want to partial partnership in the apothecary?" she asked carefully.

Carole's head jerked up slightly to look at Rowan with some quiet consternation. "Do you need help with it?" she asked warily.

Rowan shook her head. "It's not really about the help. I mean, yes, I will need _some_ help with it, but I figured you'd just be a business partner and could take on whatever other roles you want. Obviously I know you can handle everything that would come with the territory, so I thought maybe you'd be interested," she explained awkwardly. She didn't know why she felt so stiff - this was her mother - and yet it felt like a strange proposal. She shifted uneasily.

Carole looked at her hard for a few more minutes before shaking her head and turning back to her papers. "No, I don't think I'm interested in that," she said simply.

Rowan's mouth twisted with confusion. She waited for a further explanation but none came. "That's it?" asked incredulously.

Carole simply shrugged but didn't look back up. "That's it," she said.

Rowan glared at her mother, who didn't seem to notice, and then sighed, propping her chin up against her hand on the table. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but such a hard "no" seemed strange. She reached forward and took an apple slice from a small plate on the table, then scanned over her mother's silvery hair and small glasses and the numerous files on the table with a hard look.

"What're those?" she asked, mouth full of apple.

"Just some property forms for the house. I've been looking to do some renovations – it's just so stuffy here," Carole said over the papers. "I was always trying to get your father to do some work on the house, but we never got around to it."

Rowan nodded and thought of the darker corners of the upper floors. It certainly was an old house. She decided that it could probably do some good with a few renovations; maybe some added windows or a couple of walls taken out to open up the space. She thought of how clean and light the Lupin household felt – she wondered if her home could ever feel that way.

"What were you thinking?" Rowan asked thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure yet. I was going to consult an architect next week about it," she responded.

Rowan nodded. "Do you need me to be there?" she asked.

Carole shook her head but continued to read. "No, it's okay. Alfred will be with me. You have better things to do anyway," she said. Rowan nodded vaguely, resting her head tiredly on her hand as she chewed the apple slice slowly. She thought of said butler with some confusion. She hadn't seen him since that awkward introduction in the foyer earlier. She wanted to ask him what the hell that was, but it seemed that he was busy doing something else. She groped blindly for another slice of apple from the plate in front of her and then bit into it lazily.

"Well, I guess I'm going to head home then," she said tiredly, glancing up at the clock - it read 8 p.m. "Remus is probably wondering where I am."

Carole nodded vaguely again but didn't look up. Rowan looked at her with furrowed brows - was the paperwork really so interesting? She shook her head. It was unimportant.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Say good night to Alfred for me."

Carole hummed in affirmation and waved Rowan off. As Rowan walked through the foyer, she gazed around as D'Este had before he'd left. What had that strange exchange between him and Alfred been about? She thought about it again. They were close in age. Perhaps they had been old friends at Hogwarts. But no, old friends wouldn't have reacted so awkwardly to each other. Maybe they'd been rivals, or even worse - enemies. Rowan grimaced. They probably wouldn't see much of each other, despite their connections to her, right? As she stepped out into the cool spring air, she wondered if Alfred would take her words from earlier to heart. She wasn't sure how she felt about it.


	55. Of the Birth as the Seventh Month Dies

**A/N: **HERE WE GO. FINALLY. SHIT IS GOING TO START COMING HARD. THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.

**misslak: **Ah, your deductions are always very close. I'm really excited about Amrit and Lescos and Rowan's adventures with them. Thanks for the great review, as always!

**Maddie Rose: **Thank you! I'm glad that Rowan's drive resonates with you. And I think they deserve a happy ending too ;]

**nessafly:** Thanks for all the suggestions! I was actually considering a Fred or George story next, so it's interesting that you think the wandmaker storyline would fit there chronologically. I'm hesitant to write about quieter characters because it's so hard to make the story really engaging when the protagonist is more reserved, but I'll keep thinking it over.

Also, I'm sad you don't ship Sirius and Mina, but their relationship is definitely pretty turbulent and I didn't spend as much time developing them as I would've liked. I'll focus a bit more on Sirius in the next installment, so I hope you like where that goes! Thanks again!

**SMFG1:** Thank you! Hope you like this one too!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 55: Of the Birth as the Seventh Month Dies<strong>

A long, shrill scream echoed down the halls of St. Mungo's obstetrics ward. Rowan flinched slightly at the grating sound. It stabbed its way down her spine and into her stomach. She couldn't believe Lily still had any voice left in her.

It was July 31st, and the Marauders and company were gathered in the waiting room of St. Mungo's. They had been taking turns, coming and going from the hospital as they waited for news of James and Lily's baby. Rowan tiredly looked up at the clock that hung over the door. It was quite late already - 11 p.m. Lily had gone into labor nearly twelve hours prior, and it still sounded like they had some more time to go. She took a glance at Mina, who looked strangely upset in the seat next to her. Her eyebrows were furrowed heavily, mouth twisted with discomfort. Rowan grimaced again as another shriek rang out from behind the closed doors of the operating room.

A slight creak was heard, and both women looked up to see Sirius and Remus peeking their heads apprehensively into the waiting room. They looked slightly green in the face. Rowan smirked at the sight.

"You going to come in or just stand there?" she asked cheekily. Sirius attempted a glare but couldn't muster enough bite, instead looking slightly constipated.

"Please don't make us come back in," he whimpered.

"Oh quit. It's your turn. We already took a double shift for you nancies," she said glaringly. They both cringed but crept back into the room anyway, shoulders stiff.

Rowan looked to Mina. "Care for a walk?" she asked. Mina nodded eagerly, thumb and finger pinching her nose bridge.

"Yes, please," she said tiredly. The two women stood. Rowan looked back at the men.

"Julia and my mum should be back soon. Try to look a little presentable, okay?" she teased. Sirius groaned and flopped over a couple of seats melodramatically, burying his face in his hands. Remus' face turned a strange shade of puce. Rowan grinned slightly.

"How can you be enjoying this?" Remus asked incredulously.

Rowan reached forward and pinched his face. He groaned and swatted her hands away, pulling a laugh from her.

"We'll be back in an hour. Let us know if anything happens. Try to perk up a bit while we're gone," she said lightly. And with that, the two women trudged off for the exit.

* * *

><p>Rowan and Mina sat outside on the warm sidewalk outside of the hospital, both clutching cups of cheap coffee from the hospital vending machines. They drank quietly, relishing the heat after sitting in the cold, sterile, white waiting room. Rowan's lungs seemed to expand tenfold now that she was outside. It had been nearly two years since her injury, and yet the very sight of the hospital still made her stomach tight with anxiety. She leaned back onto her hands and breathed the warm night air in deeply, shoulders slackening.<p>

She turned to look at Mina, who was hunched over and staring into her cup of coffee with that strange hard look again. Rowan frowned slightly.

"Everything okay?" she asked with light concern.

Mina's head jerked up with surprise. Rowan smiled ruefully. Mina's lips twitched into a strained half-smile, though Rowan could see some blossoming annoyance there.

"I'm fine," she said shortly, before turning back to stare at nothing. Rowan eyed her warily.

The two sat in silence, allowing the sounds of London at night to fall and trickle over them passively. People came and went, walking past and throwing cursory glances their way, but despite the noise, Rowan felt a comforting sense of emptiness. Could emptiness have substance? She certainly felt so.

The past couple of months had been fulfilling, but stressful. It felt like she'd been sprinting for about seven weeks, and the momentary silence was like stumbling across an oasis in an infinite desert. Two weeks after the initial meeting with her new colleagues, they'd begun to really test her findings. There had been two lunar cycles so far, and the next was coming up again within the coming week.

The first cycle had been one of the most terrifying experiences of Rowan's life. After a long week of injections, she and the team had gathered on the night of the full moon in the protective enclosure that Fabian had prepared at the I.C.E. Isaac had stood unabashedly naked before them, pale with gangling limbs and blue veins. Rowan had always imagined Remus' preparation ritual - he must have one, after all, surely. It had almost been like a ceremony, with quiet, rehearsed movements and a tone of solemnity usually reserved only for moments of deep reverence. Rowan had been reminded of the old Japanese Muggle films she'd watched with James years ago from the 1950s. Samurai, those men had been called.

She'd seen countless illustrations and even Marie Acina's werewolf transformation from Belby's memories, but nothing could have prepared her for the horrifying experience of witnessing it firsthand. What had begun as an almost elegant, dignified ritual quickly devolved into the most primal, guttural sounds and convulsions. Isaac's body had twisted and contorted, bones jutting and crunching and twisting beneath his skin. His face and eyes and teeth had stretched and screamed. His flesh had pulled and torn against bone and muscle. Rowan had never been squeamish, but she had nearly vomited on the spot.

And then the test had failed.

Isaac's werewolf had thrashed and flailed against the enchanted cage that they'd erected. His movements had been a drunken stupor, long legs tripping and stumbling over themselves, but the confusion and delirium had only made him more aggressive out of sheer panic. Rowan's stomach had seized with fear and heat. The potion had perhaps hindered him, but in a cruel turn, it had only made him even more dangerous. Eventually, Isaac finally collapsed from the exhaustion of his delirious hysteria, but only after hours and hours of the same drunken shrieking. It had seemed like a short eternity. Rowan had nearly passed out as well.

The next cycle had been slightly more successful, but that magical look of sentience that her mice took on during the full moon was still lacking. The dosages were still too weak. She needed more aconite. It was infuriating! Why hadn't she started testing sooner? If this continued, she wouldn't be able to publish for _at least_ another year.

If she wasn't brewing, she was doing research, and if she wasn't doing that, she was either working with the Order. There had been a sudden surge in Death Eater activity - just at the most inconvenient time, it seemed. She and Remus couldn't seem to find a break to catch their breath, and with the Weasleys, the Potters, and the Longbottoms out of commission for maternity reasons, the rest of the Order was feeling the strain.

Lily had been beside herself. It wasn't like her or James to sit aside while their friends were fighting. It had taken a large amount of arguing on the part of the Marauders to convince them that they needed to stay out of battle while expecting. Rowan and company had been doing their best to keep their increased missions from the Potters, but it was growing difficult, especially with the dark circles growing steadily beneath their eyes. There was a raid upon Dolohov Manor being planned very soon as well. Rowan could only hope that she could keep James' nose out of Order business until then.

Peter's participation had increased, however, much to his friends' delight. He had informed them a month before that his mother's condition seemed to be improving, though his nerves hadn't. He was looking more gaunt with everyday that passed. Rowan had brought it up quietly with Sirius, expressing her deep concern for their small friend. But Sirius' explanation had seemed to make sense - Wormy was naturally the most afraid of them all. Of course he was showing worse for wear with the sudden onslaught of Death Eater activity. She couldn't really argue with that.

Rowan looked back over at Mina, who was still quiet. The brunette had also been looking haggard recently. Her usually glossy hair was looking duller. Her smiles came less readily. Her comments during Order meetings were harsher. She'd even made Emmeline Vance cry the other day with the severity of her tone. Rowan couldn't really blame her - as Mad-Eye's protege of sorts, it only made sense that she was feeling the strain. The old Auror's fire seemed to only increase with the danger, and he expected everyone around him to react the same way. Although Mina was certainly a fantastic Auror, there was only so much energy one could expend in a day. Rowan was afraid she'd burn herself out and slip up on a mission. She could end up getting hurt... or worse. She cringed at the thought.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked carefully, breaking the silence again.

Mina's face jerked to look at Rowan with eyes blazing angrily. Rowan recoiled slightly at the sight of her friend's expression.

"I said I'm fine!" she snapped.

Rowan flinched at her tone. Mina's face immediately fell into an apologetic grimace.

"I'm sorry, Row. I didn't mean to snap. I just-"

Rowan smiled consolingly. "It's okay. I know," she said softly. "Sorry for pushing you. You just don't seem like yourself recently."

Mina's lips trembled momentarily. Rowan could see the thoughts flitting behind her eyes. She looked around them discreetly, but the street was filled with fast-paced, passing people. No one seemed to even realized the two women sitting on the curb. Finally, her resolution seemed to break.

"Can you keep a secret?" she whispered.

Rowan nodded hesitantly. Mina took a deep breath.

"I walked in on Dumbledore and Moody talking about something... something terrible," she said quietly. Her voice was barely a whisper, but Rowan heard it clearer than any other conversation on the street. "Dumbledore received a prophecy at the beginning of the year... a prophecy about You-Know-Who... It involves James and Lily."

Rowan's stomach clenched painfully. Her mouth hung open, breath shallow and abrupt. Every other voice on the street fell away.

"I'm not supposed to know. Dumbledore made me swear not to tell anyone, but it's killing me - being the only one to know," Mina whispered frantically. "I didn't catch all of their conversation so I don't know the details of what's going to happen, but it's clear that You-Know-Who will be coming after James and Lily soon."

"What?" Rowan breathed. Her lungs seemed to collapse on themselves. "You're sure? You're sure they were talking about-"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Mina hissed. Rowan flinched again at her tone slightly but was taken aback by the twinge of something else there - it was fear.

"I'm completely, utterly sure," she breathed. Her breath was short, eyes glistening angrily. "I wouldn't be so fucking _terrified_ if I weren't sure. But what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Rowan blanched. She could feel all of the blood drain from her face. "We have to tell them!" she gasped. "We have to get them into hiding. How can-"

"Dumbledore is going to get them into hiding soon," Mina said. Rowan felt her stomach loosen slightly at this, but the searing heat in her face remained.

"When?" she asked.

Mina shook her head. "I don't know. Soon. He needed to wait for Lily to give birth, but I imagine it'll happen as soon as they're able to move," she explained. Her hands gripped Rowan's tightly. "You can't tell them. They can't know, or Dumbledore will know that I broke my promise to him, and I don't know what I'll do if Moody finds out. Promise me you won't say anything."

Mina's eyes burned into Rowan's. She felt as if she might implode - how could she promise that? James - she needed to tell James! She needed to protect him and Lily and their baby... Her godchild! She needed to protect her godchild!

"Promise me!" Mina hissed. She squeezed Rowan's fingers painfully tight.

Rowan stared hard at her friend, lips trembling. She then nodded slowly.

"I promise."

Mina's grip loosened until her fingers fell away. Air seemed to seep from her veins, deflating her. Her mouth still remained tight, but the relief of confiding in someone seemed to pull the weight of the burden from her. Unfortunately, Rowan now felt the brunt of it fully.

"I'm sorry," Mina whispered. Her voice rumbled and shook. "I just had to tell someone. I don't know what else to do. I want to tell them so badly, but I can't. I can't tell them, Winnie."

Rowan nodded dumbly but didn't quite know how else to respond. She wanted to believe. _Dumbledore must have his reasons._ She wanted desperately to trust the great wizard, but the thought of her best friends in danger was enough to make all else fall silent for Rowan.

But there was no time to brood. A silver mass flew over head and landed in front of the two women, pulling a surprised shriek from both. It was a dog - Sirius.

"_Hurry back now! It's a boy! A boy!"_

Sirius' ecstatic voice echoed happily through the silence. The silvery dog threw its head back and released a silent howl into the glowing streets of London. Just as the glowing hound whispered away into the night, a distant echoing chime was heard, ringing through the dark streets. It was midnight. Rowan felt the last remnants of July fade away into the darkness.

* * *

><p>Harry James Potter was born July 31, 1980 at 11:53 p.m.<p>

Out of all of the Quidditch Cup Championships won, House Cups celebrated, and legendary pranks pulled over the years, Rowan had never seen her best friend look so consumed with joy. James hadn't put little Harry down once since they'd come running back to the delivery room, and Rowan was slightly afraid that he'd pass out while standing up.

"James, either sit or put down my son before you trip and take him down with you," Lily scolded tiredly. James simply blew a raspberry and continued dancing around the room with his newborn son. Rowan couldn't help but laugh with delight as she watched the two turn about the room.

Whatever apprehension she'd felt outside with Mina seemed to fall away as she felt the glow of her godson's presence. This was true happiness, the embodiment of love - no Dark Lord or Death Eaters could reach them here in this moment. She gazed around the room and saw her closest loved ones all gathered, all happy. Tomorrow might bring darker things, but at that moment, there was no war, no battles. This was peace.

"Prongs, let us see him, damn it!" Sirius barked happily from beside Rowan on the couch.

James clutched Harry to his chest and eyed Rowan and Sirius suspiciously. Rowan glared at him until the new father relented sullenly, handing over the baby to her with the gentlest hands she'd ever seen on him.

Harry slipped into Rowan's arms effortlessly. His warm weight fell upon her softly, like a faint whisper, and as she set her eyes upon his tiny face, the entire earth and sky seemed to open up. She felt that overwhelming comfort of emptiness surge through her as she gazed into his sleeping face. All notions of fatigue or fear fell away into the void. His black hair was a soft wisp, his tiny fingers splayed delicately across his chest. He was real - her godson, her ward. This was what she was fighting for - for a future in which he'd never know all of the ways they'd suffered.

"He looks just like you, Jamie," Rowan whispered. This baby, this tiny vision of James - she could already see him grow up in her mind's eye. Every memory of her childhood with James flashed behind her eyes.

"Better looking though. Probably from Lily," Mina grinned.

"Damn right," Lily retorted from her bed. James chuckled and kissed her hair affectionately. They seemed to glow in an otherworldly light.

"Good genes, he has. Can't wait till he's old enough to walk. He'll be able to fly as soon as he can stand if I have anything to say about it," Sirius declared proudly. He ran his fingers gently over the black tuft of hair on Harry's tiny head. Harry's face scrunched up in his sleep. He released the smallest of sounds. Rowan was sure her face might break if she smiled any more broadly.

And then his eyes opened.

_"Oh,"_ Rowan breathed. Remus smiled.

"Just like Lil's," he said.

Harry stared up at his parents' friends, round eyes calm and dazed. And_ green._

"Lily's eyes," James said, chest swelling with pride. "He couldn't have come out more perfect even if we'd planned it."

"You're just saying that because he looks exactly like you," Mina jabbed.

"Well, duh," James huffed. "Who wouldn't want to look like me? I am the pinnacle of human evolution, after all." One could nearly hear the shared eye-roll around the room.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! Is the baby here? I can't believe I missed it!" Peter cried, stumbling into the room in a puff of wheezes.

Harry whimpered slightly and twisted in discomfort in Rowan's arms at the sudden onslaught of noise. Sirius shushed Peter loudly. The smaller man grimaced apologetically. Luckily, Harry's face melted calmly again and then fell back asleep. A sigh of relief echoed around the room.

"Hey, Wormy. It's okay, mate. Come meet him," Sirius said happily, gesturing Peter over to the baby. Rowan stood carefully - making sure not to wake Harry back up - and cradled him next to Peter.

The round man's eyes widened with awe as he laid eyes on the baby. Rowan smiled at the light in Peter's face. All the stress and fatigue in his face seemed to fall away. She marveled at the wonders this tiny being was able to achieve with just his presence.

"Wow," Peter breathed.

James nodded proudly. "His name is Harry James Potter; born at 11:53," he declared.

Peter nodded but never took his gaze off of Harry. His mouth trembled slightly, lips twisting with emotion as he looked at the baby. Rowan was deeply moved as she saw Peter's eyes well up and glisten with unshed tears.

"He's perfect, James," he whispered. James nodded fiercely. Lily smiled and leaned into her husband.

"He is," she agreed.

* * *

><p>The Marauders all took turns holding little baby Harry, each cooing and giggling uncharacteristically at the sight of the newborn. Rowan sat on the bed next to Lily as she watched the four men conspire excitedly about the plans they had for their group's newest member. Mina sat in the armchair next to the bed tiredly.<p>

"You did good today, Lil," Rowan said affectionately, squeezing her dear friend's hand. She cherished the warmth shared between them and tried to commit it to memory. She pushed away the dark premonition that Mina had whispered to her earlier.

Lily beamed, eyes drooping somewhat with exhaustion. "Mm, he's my greatest accomplishment," she murmured. She squeezed Rowan's hand. "I don't think it's possible to be any happier. James, Harry, all of you... He's so lucky to have everyone, you especially. We couldn't have chosen a better godmother," she said warmly.

Rowan's lips trembled and she felt her eyes burn slightly with gratitude. "It's the greatest honor I could imagine... being his godmother," she said humbly. "I promise you won't regret it."

Lily smiled, and her eyes drifted shut. Her head lolled against Rowan's shoulder. "Never... You'll always be there for us," she mumbled. She yawned quietly. Rowan grinned.

"Tired?" she asked teasingly.

Lily gave a sort of half-glare, but her eyes continued to droop. Rowan could see her mouth twist in efforts to stay awake.

"You should sleep," Rowan said softly.

Lily shook her head but leaned against Rowan. "No... I want to see him..." she mumbled.

Rowan smiled. "He'll be here in the morning, Lil. You really need to get some rest."

But Lily didn't respond. Her friend's breath deepened and evened out quietly. She felt Lily's weight sag against her with exhaustion.

"She asleep?" Mina asked quietly from beside her.

Rowan nodded. "Yeah, we should probably head out. She must be exhausted," she whispered.

She carefully pried her fingers from Lily's and cradled her head gently, setting her back into her pillows with the utmost care. Even after the painful exertions of childbirth, Lily still looked near-angelic in her sleep. Rowan admired her fiery hair and the slight upturn of her nose. She tried to sketch every curve and line of her face into her memory.

"Hey, you ready?"

Rowan jerked up with surprise to see Remus looking down at her with a confused smile. Rowan shook herself mentally and then smiled back.

"One second."

She then turned back to see James walking the room with Harry again, eyes fixated on his son's face. Rowan walked back up to him quietly.

"Jamie."

James looked up and beamed. Rowan's throat tightened at the sight of her oldest friend and this tiny carbon copy of him. It was overwhelming how bright they were.

"Congratulations," she whispered. "I really can't tell you how happy I am for you."

James' gaze melted warmly. Rowan was struck by how very familiar that expression was. She'd seen it on Richard's face, on Lyall's. She remembered seeing John Potter gaze at them both that way so many years ago. James suddenly seemed so mature, so much older than she. He had completely grown up.

"Thank you, Winnie," he whispered.

Rowan's lips twitched upward. She felt the heat sear at the back of her throat again, but she swallowed it down. She pushed a smile to her face and regarded her best friend one more time - his messy black hair, his crooked glasses. But his usual boyish smirk was gone - replaced with something fuller, deeper, more genuine. James Potter was a father now.

Rowan looked down once more at Harry, mouth slack and slightly parted. He hummed in his sleep, safe in his father's arms. She brushed her fingers gently through his downy hair once more and said a silent prayer. She would protect this boy - this _precious_ child.

Before she lost her will to leave, she turned to see Remus standing in the doorway. His eyes were so gentle, mouth and back relaxed. She knew something in her had changed - something very important - though she couldn't be sure what. As she took his hand, she felt a charge inside of her, deep at the pit of her stomach. Something had certainly changed. She squeezed Remus' hand. He squeezed back. She focused on that spark and held it tight. She burned the image and name of her godson into it. It resonated deep in her heart - _Harry James Potter._


	56. Of the Light in the Void

**A/N:** The peak is about to crumble.

**lovirosa:** Ah, so good to hear from you! And yes, the Chosen One haha. I feel so funny saying that. And you know you can always count on me to break your hearts haha. Thank you, as always!

**nessafly:** Haha me too! Things are finally starting to move forward, and I'm super excited to end this story and get started with the next! Thank you!

**misslak:** Thank you so much! I'm so happy you approve :]

**missalex3030:** Thank you, thank you! I can't imagine how busy you are. Hair styling sounds like a really fun profession, especially during wedding season. But thanks for reviewing still! I'm really grateful that you appreciate the time I put into developing my OCs, and James too. Thank you again!

**asharas:** THANK YOU THANK YOU! I really can't tell you how thrilling it is when I hear from new readers. I'm so happy and grateful you've found my story so interesting. Thank you again, and I hope you continue on with it! Please let me know what you think in the future as well!

**SMGF1:** Thank you! And once a week seems to be the trend recently, doesn't it? It's mostly because I'm working a lot, and I've been getting distracted with all the excitement of the summer in the city. I've also been writing slowly because, for some reason, these past chapters have been a little more difficult to write. BUT we're almost at the end!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 56: Of the Light in the Void<strong>

It was two weeks after Harry's birth - the middle of August. The air was still sticky with the summer heat. The evening was heavy with promise - it would probably rain soon.

Remus sat in the Burrow living room on the couch with Lily, with the Weasley boys scattered around them and baby Harry in Lily's arms. Molly had demanded that the younger woman come over so that she and Arthur could meet the newest addition to the Potter family. James was still at the Ministry working - the Auror office was feeling an onslaught of Death Eater activity - so Remus had come in his stead to help. He smiled fondly as he watched the various little Weasleys bounce around the newborn in Lily's arms. Harry's mop of black hair stood out starkly amongst the redheads.

Fred and George's faces hovered directly in front of Harry's with very concentrated expressions. Remus watched them apprehensively - he could never predict how those two would react to anything. They hadn't exactly been enthused when their own baby brother had arrived. He was now sleeping peacefully upstairs - able to get a moment of reprieve from the twins' plotting.

Fred's nose scrunched up finally with some confusion and then looked up at Lily.

"Its name is Harry?" he asked. Lily smiled and nodded.

"Yes, his name is Harry," she responded patiently. Fred nodded sagely, as if hearing a wise proverb, and then looked back down at the baby. Harry gazed up at him calmly. His eyes trailed over the twins' hard expressions.

"Won is bigger," George declared. "Why? They both babies."

"Ron is older, sweetheart," Molly said from beside him. "Harry will be just as big though very soon. Remember how small Ron was when he first arrived?"

George nodded eagerly and then looked back at Fred. They shared a look then slowly stretched into grins. Remus cringed a little inwardly - he knew that expression couldn't be good.

"They should fight!" Fred declared. He slapped Harry's hand loudly, yanking a cry from the infant. A sharp wail erupted from his tiny mouth shrilly. Remus flinched at the sound.

"_Fred!_" Molly exclaimed, abhorred. She snatched Fred from the couch and stood in a panic. The toddler squealed and flailed.

"No! I did nothing!" he protested. George stood on the couch clumsily next to Lily, who was shielding a now crying Harry from the toddlers, trying her best to soothe him. George was also flailing and hopping precariously on the couch's cushions. Remus' hands shot out to steady the toddler before he fell off of the couch.

"He did nothing!" George cried. He kicked and shoved at Remus' hands as the older man tried to balance him. The boy's little hands pushed and slapped against Remus' face and arms with grunting protests. Eventually, Remus had to wrestle him to the floor, where he simply released him. George pushed away and scrambled to his feet, following his mother and twin brother out of the room on pattering tiny feet. Bill leapt to his feet from beside Remus and ran after his mother, scooping George up with him as he went. The little boy shrieked at his older brother's confining arms, but all four quickly disappeared.

"I'm so sorry, Lily!" Molly cried as she rushed the twins from the room. Lily smiled exasperatedly as she bounced Harry in her arms. The infant gasped and gurgled, but his wails softened to small whimpers.

The loud protestations from the twins dulled as they fell farther into the house. As quiet overtook the room again, the tension in Remus' chest loosened. He sighed and sat back against the couch, breathing deeply.

"Merlin," he gasped, sinking into the old, soft cushions. "How does she have any energy to do _anything?_" he marveled.

Lily nodded, grimacing slightly, but didn't say anything. She looked down at her son, who had calmed quickly. He blinked tearfully up at his mother, lips twisting slightly with the remnants of his crying. She rocked Harry with the gentlest expression. Remus smiled fondly. He'd always known that Lily would make a fantastic mother, and yet seeing her with her actual son was warmer than any other vision he'd imagined.

His thoughts trailed to Rowan. Twins - she'd said that she wanted twins. He was torn between a sigh of longing and dread. _Twins?_

"How can she want twins?" he muttered disbelievingly. He cringed at the thought of running after two tiny mayhem makers like Fred and George on a daily basis.

Lily perked up at this, head jerking over towards Remus. Her eyes glowed with excitement.

"Twins? Who - _Rowan?_" she exclaimed excitedly. She continued to bounce Harry in her arms, but her eyes lit up at the mentioning of children from Remus. Remus winced as he realized that he'd said his musings aloud.

"Yeah," he admitted, "She said she wanted twins."

Remus could have sworn that he saw Lily's eyes twinkle. He wasn't sure if he should be nervous or not.

"So you two are talking about having children then?" she asked excitedly. She grinned toothily up at him, and he was suddenly reminded of her fiery schoolgirl days. He almost smiled at the thought.

"Well, sort of," he admitted. He mentally shouted at himself for talking about such private matters with his friend - again - but there was something about the woman that just pulled it out of him. "Someday, but not now."

"But that means you're talking about getting married too, _right?"_

Remus cringed again. He'd certainly dug himself into a hole now. There was no way to get out of this - Lily wouldn't drop it until she got some answers. He sighed.

"I was... thinking about it - proposing, I mean."

Lily shrieked and seized next to him, only restrained by the gasping infant in her arms. She gasped as well, looking down at her son in a panic as she realized her sudden lack of composure and sighed in relief at the sight of him simply frowning up at her. She almost smiled contritely before turning back to Remus.

"How soon is soon?" she asked softly, but still with great excitement.

Remus shook his head. "I don't know yet. Nothing immediate, but I was thinking maybe around Christmas... I'm not sure... What do you think?" he said thoughtfully. He smiled shyly at Lily, ears suddenly feeling very warm with embarrassment.

Lily beamed. "I think Christmas is a wonderful idea," she said earnestly. She then leaned back thoughtfully. "Hmmm... Twins," she mused. Her face stretched out slowly into a grin. "I could definitely see her with twins. She and James are practically twins themselves. I bet they were just as crazy as Fred and George."

Remus cringed again. She had a point. He thought back to the rough, dark-haired duo from their First Year. They'd practically been a pair of wild animals back then. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for poor Carol, Julia, and Alfred to chase after them, even after they'd begun at Hogwarts. He wondered how many owls from McGonagall their mothers had received over the years.

"God, I really don't know if I can handle twins," he groaned. Lily laughed and patted him on the arm.

"I'm sure they'll be the loveliest of children," she teased. "Just keep them away from Fred and George. I can't imagine that'll be a good combination."

Suddenly, there was a slamming of the kitchen door and the sound of stomping feet.

"_Hello-o!"_ rang out a jolly voice.

"Speaking of twins," whispered Lily conspiratorially, grinning. Remus rolled his eyes at her.

"In here!" he called. The stomping loudened as the feet approached until another flash of red hair appeared around the corner, attached to a stout body and glowing smile - Gideon Prewett.

"Gideon! It's so good to see you!" Lily greeted. She then frowned slightly. "It is Gideon, right?"

The older man guffawed loudly. "Yes, yes. Fabian is with Winnie right now prepping for their work tomorrow night. But I didn't want to miss an opportunity to meet the young'un!" He peered around the room in confusion for a moment, seeing only the two of them and Harry. "Where is everyone?" he asked.

"Uh... the twins had a bit of a tantrum, so Molly and Bill are putting them to bed I think. Ron is asleep. Arthur is on patrol. I don't really know where Percy and Charlie are," Remus listed slowly. He heard a distant roar from the upstairs rooms and grimaced slightly - he suddenly had an idea of where the nine year-old was.

Gideon nodded at this explanation and then assessed the young pair on the couch happily. He scurried forward and plopped down next to Lily so that she sat in the middle of the couch and peered excitedly at the bundle in her arms. His brown eyes glowed happily.

"So this is the new pup, eh?" he grinned, taking Harry into his arms. He held the infant out in front of him with arms stretched. His large, broad hands seemed to engulf the tiny boy. Harry stared back at him with large eyes blinking in confusion, but he remained silent. Gideon's grin broadened even farther, if possible. "He looks every inch a Potter," he said approvingly. Lily beamed.

"He does," she agreed.

Gideon then pulled Harry back in and assessed his face more closely. He seemed to look over him like a rare artifact, nodding his head knowingly, as if checking off various details from a list. He stretched the boy's tiny hands out, tracing the little lines and creases in his fingers, then ran his palms over his little head and behind his ears. Lily and Remus watched him, frowning with apprehension.

Finally, the older man seemed satisfied and handed Harry back to Lily. He nodded his head one more time like an exclamation point.

"Yep, he's a wizard, all right," he declared confidently.

Remus snorted, while Lily stared hard at her son, eyebrows furrowed. She then looked back up at Gideon.

"Well... yes," she said slowly.

Gideon shook his head confidently.

"You never know! Squibism can occur anywhere to any family! Like the Longbottom boy - I'm not totally sure about that one. But yours here - he's definitely got some magic in him! A good deal, I should think, too!"

Lily eyed him warily. "There's no way Alice and Frank's son is a squib," she said suspiciously. "And how can you be sure Harry isn't?"

Gideon shrugged. "It's my job - identify children with magic and those without. Your son definitely has magic. Neville could have some in him too. He most likely does - it'll probably come out as he gets older - but he _could_ be a squib. I'm just saying you don't need to worry about Harry."

Lily's frown remained but she looked slightly relieved. Her shoulders sagged a bit.

Remus gazed at Harry thoughtfully. It'd never occurred to him to be concerned about the magical status of a child born from two magical parents, but he supposed it was possible. If a magical child born to Muggle parents was common, he reasoned it wouldn't be completely unheard of to have non-magical children from a union of magical parents. He frowned. He sincerely hoped he'd never have to worry about that with his children.

"How're you feeling this month? Good to go for tomorrow?"

Remus was snapped from his inner musings by Gideon's sudden question. He looked up to see him and Lily gazing at him intently. Remus smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, a bit tired, but I'm okay. I'm more worried about Rowan, to be honest. She's barely slept at all this week," he admitted.

Lily nodded solemnly, but Gideon's chest swelled with pride.

"That girl is going to get a damn Order of Merlin soon. I'd bet some good gold on that," he declared proudly. Remus smiled gratefully and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, she's bloody brilliant. She's going to sort it out any day now," he said, face stretching fondly as he thought of his girlfriend. He imagined her hunched over her cauldrons in some dark laboratory with her messy hair tied up and bobbing on top of her head. He hadn't seen much of her over the past week, due to her rigorous work schedule, and when he did, she looked nearly as gaunt and tired as he did. "I just hope she remembered to eat lunch today," he mumbled.

Gideon guffawed and clapped a rough hand to Remus' back. The younger man choked a bit on his own spit, sputtering slightly. The older man grinned ruefully.

"I'm sure she's fine. She's in good hands," he said encouragingly. "My brother will make sure she's fed and plump."

Remus smiled weakly and imagined Rowan's tired face. Something in his bones ached. He could feel the wolf inside of him howling with the coming moon.

* * *

><p>In a cold, basement laboratory the next night in the center of London, Rowan sat on a stool in front of a magical enclosure, wringing her hands nervously. Her right foot twitched uncontrollably. Her stomach was tight, like a bundle of writhing snakes. She wanted to throw or punch something or scream, but she clenched all of her muscles to the point of pain - she <em>would<em> sit still.

"It's going to be fine. Take a breath."

Rowan's head jerked up to see Fabian Prewett smiling down at her knowingly. She half-grimaced, half-smiled, face twisting awkwardly before settling into a furrowed frown. She heeded his advice and took a deep breath, but it didn't help to alleviate any of the tension in her gut and stiff back. Fabian patted her on the shoulder and smiled encouragingly.

"It's only the third cycle, girlie. No one expects it to go perfectly the first few times around. That's why they're called 'experiments,' you know?"

Rowan nodded but hunched over anxiously. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But I've lost so much time already. And now, you all are in this with me too. It's not like I can just relax and let things unravel slowly. I have to get this right," she rambled.

Fabian smiled and nodded. "It will," he promised quietly. He then grinned at her. "Just think - this time next year, you'll be a world-renowned Potioneer! Maybe even a Potions Master! _Master Delacroix_," he sang dramatically.

Rowan chuckled a bit at this. She was incredibly grateful to have Fabian there with her. Even though she felt relatively comfortable with Amrit and Lescos at this point, the older Order member was truly a source of light during these dark nights. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to continue onward without his bright cheering.

"What about you, Ike? You plan on doing anything exciting next year once this thing gets nailed down?" he called through the enclosure.

The still form in the center of the room stirred at the sound of his name. Isaac's pale eyes opened calmly. He looked up at the pair through the glowing, translucent wall that separated them from him. He seemed to think for a moment before answering.

"I imagine not much will be different for me," he answered measuredly. "I will work with Ms. Delacroix on finding a cure. Otherwise, I will most likely continue with my work at the Ministry."

Fabian gaped dramatically at the pale man. "You're kidding! You _must_ have something exciting in mind! Maybe a vacation you otherwise wouldn't have been able to take? Someone to confess your love to?" Rowan's mouth twisted amusedly - Fabian certainly had a very melodramatic narrative developing in his mind about Isaac.

Isaac thought carefully again. Rowan wondered if he was actually thinking or if he simply answered slowly out of habit.

"No, I would imagine not," he finally answered. His response sparked a question in Rowan's mind - something she had been wondering for a few months now.

"Isaac?" she called.

"Yes," he responded simply.

Rowan turned the words over in her head before voicing them. "You know my mother's assistant Alfred?"

Again, Isaac paused.

"Yes," he finally answered.

Rowan took a deep breath. Her chest was slightly tense for some reason. "Did you two know each other from anywhere else?" she asked carefully.

Again, Isaac paused, but it felt heavier this time. Rowan wondered if she was imagining it.

"Why do you ask?"

Something rejoiced in the back of Rowan's mind. She knew she'd caught onto something!

"I just had a feeling that you two had met before - like maybe you met while at Hogwarts, you know?"

Silence again. Rowan's thoughts came loudly in screaming accusations and righteous victory and then quieted back down to a whisper. A great deal of time passed. Rowan listened carefully to the clean clicks of the clock's second hand on the wall. Still no response. Perhaps her suspicions hadn't been right after all. Perhaps she had just imagined it. Right when she'd given up on an answer, Isaac spoke again.

"Yes."

Rowan perked up at this. "Yes, as in you knew each other already?" she asked quickly.

"Yes."

Isaac's eyes remained closed. His back stood prostrate and still, like a figure carved from the smoothest of marble. Despite the lack of windows in this cramped space, the sight of Isaac's pale form glowing in the dim light of Amrit's laboratory seemed to serve as a substitute moon. Each restrained movement of his pre-transformation ritual whispered like a lap a water. His pale skin and veins had glowed eerily. Each blue trail seemed like a spill of fading ink, pulling and pushing from itself into long faint webs around his body. She wondered if the secrets to their questions could be read from the words they spelled out.

"How-"

_"It's almost time."_

Rowan and Fabian jumped slightly and turned to see Amrit Kohli and Lescos Farago emerge from the dark perimeters of the room. Their features washed out and shadowed hauntingly in the strange light. Amrit's large, inky eyes pierced through the sterile light of the laboratory. Her crimson lips stretched pleasantly into a calm smile. Rowan felt some of the tension in her neck dissipate at the very sight of the older woman's even form. The naked man nodded from his kneeling position but otherwise didn't move.

"I'm sorry we're late," Amrit apologized, bowing her head to Rowan slightly.

"My fault, I'm afraid," admitted Lescos jovially. The large man grinned down at Rowan contritely. "Got caught up with a patient - he's got a new strain of vampirism that we've never seen in this part of the world before. I got distracted and ended up losing track of time. Won't happen again!"

Rowan smiled with some relief.

"No, I totally understand. I know you have prior commitments before this. I'm just glad that you're here at all!"

Lescos beamed at her then clapped his hands, rubbing them together excitedly. He checked the watch on his wrist and nodded eagerly.

"Looks like we made it just in time! Moonrise should be in about four minutes," he announced.

Rowan's stomach clenched again. She squeezed her fists tightly in her lap until her knuckles glowed white in the light of the magical barriers. She took a deep breath.

"Good to go, Isaac?" Lescos called.

Isaac nodded, kneeling and straight-backed. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, ribs and sternum expanding and settling calmly. Rowan watched him with slight awe. Did all werewolves look like such ascetics pre-transformation? She thought of Remus' graceful, long limbs. How would his pale arms glow in the moonlight?

"Yes."

The four researchers gathered around the enclosure as the seconds ticked down. Their faces glowed in the faint yellow light of the enchanted wards. Strange runes etched the ground surrounding the glowing barrier in a language primarily lost to time. Rowan's breath came shallowly, her heart beating like a distant drum.

Finally, she saw it - the slightest of twitches in Isaac's face. His eyes remained closed, knees and shins pressed to the ground and palms resting on his thighs. But there was a slight twitch at his eye, then a pull at the corner of his lip. His mouth creased and tightened, as if trying to prevent the monster within him from escaping past his lips. The steady tempo of his chest swelled like a rising tide. His ribs expanded with air as a sharp intake of breath shot up his nostrils audibly. His mouth continued to twist and fight, back straining and straight.

But then it fell open like the swinging of a door, head lolling back as if the muscles in his neck had collapsed. The hands that had laid flat on his thighs fell and hung limply at his sides, chest splayed like an offering. His ragged shallow breath emptied out into a low groan - a gasp of pain.

And then his eyes opened.

They were black and empty and hollow, like two of the deepest voids. Rowan imagined herself falling into them and never coming back out. They, too, seemed to groan and rumble distantly.

His entire body seized, snapping forward. He fell onto his hands and knees with a sudden shriek and the cracking of bone and skin against concrete.

There was another twitch - the bubbling at his spine. First it was just one - then two vertebrae, then three. They pulled upward like blooming flowers. His ribs stretched like roots to those blossoms and then small black shoots of grass - fur. His skin twisted and stretched tightly over the contorting bones. He was screaming and thrashing, head and face smashing into the cold floor as if trying to distract himself from the pain. His arms and legs collapsed from beneath him and shot out, groping desperately for something, _anything._

Rowan's chest was too tight. She couldn't breathe as she watched. It wasn't the contorting or the twisting - it was the pain. Each stretch of tooth and bone seemed to scream out in agony. Isaac's entire form seemed to be screaming for relief, fingernails tearing at his own skin and throat shrieking hysterically. Each sound seemed to resonate from a completely new depth. It made every inch of her own skin crawl and shiver. She wanted to peel away her own flesh along with his. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She felt dizzy. It felt so heavy...

"_Rowan!"_

Her head shot up to see Fabian's brown eyes piercing into hers.

"Keep it together, girl!" he barked.

Rowan's lips quivered but she nodded, gathering herself upward. Fabian, Amrit, and Lescos were all holding onto their wits - so could she. For Isaac.

But the screaming and groaning continued. Rowan felt herself fall into a numb daze as she waited for her patron's transformation to end. It seemed to go on and on, without any sign of ending in sight. Isaac's body was now covered in a coat of dark gray fur. His fingers had expanded into massive clawed paws. His face had twisted and elongated into a snarling snout, drool dripping from the long teeth protruding from red gums.

But then he stilled. His form remained curled up and twisted over, face pressed into the floor, but the shrill cries and howls emptied out into the softest of whimpers. His legs trembled like fragile leaves.

For many moments, the werewolf didn't move. None of the researchers dared to move either, each waiting for any sign or reaction from Isaac. Rowan realized dumbly that she was barely breathing, but her lungs seemed to have shrunken during Isaac's transformation.

And then there it was - a twitch, a shift in weight. Isaac stirred.

First it was his front legs, then a slight shift to his side. Isaac's face remained pressed against the floor, but his paws splayed flat against the ground. His toes stretched and clenched, testing his weight against gravity. The tendons beneath his skin pulled and pushed, and finally - _finally_ - there he was._  
><em>

Rowan's lungs seemed to expand all at once. She nearly choked on her own throat. Despite the fur and the claws and teeth, she knew the person in front of her. His eyes remained dark and daunting, but in their depths, she saw a glimmer of recognition, of sentience. She knew that piercing expression, that quizzical look. It was her patron, her advisor.

It was Isaac.

* * *

><p>The hours passed slowly throughout the night, but no changes came. The beast in the cage hardly seemed a beast at all. After gazing at Rowan for a long stretch of time, Isaac seemed to have been pulled into sleep almost against his will. He'd simply laid his head back down and fallen into the deepest of slumbers.<p>

There'd been nearly nothing to record, and yet, none of the remaining four researchers had been able to sleep during their normal shifts. All had remained awake, silent yet alert, throughout the night. Rowan was unable to fathom what could possibly be running through her colleagues' minds - her thoughts were too loud, too overwhelming, to even consider those of others.

Finally, there was a distant note - the clock on the wall. It was already morning.

The wolf stirred at the soft _gong_ of the clock, ears and eyes twitching from the invasive sound. Those two deep pools opened blearily, staring blankly into the distance. A soft whimper whispered from its throat.

The process of the return to man was quiet, almost humble, in comparison to its predecessor. The fur didn't so much as pull back into the skin as simply whisper away. The bones slid back into place almost properly, clicking like pieces of a puzzle. The skin pulled modestly, like the fold of skirt. Before Rowan could really get ahold of her bearings, Isaac, the man, was once again laying in the middle of the floor, pale and naked. His body trembled beneath the weight of the white light.

Rowan was shaken from her stupor as she saw the glowing barriers fade away slowly with the soft mutterings of Fabian's reverse spells. He was the first to rush forward to cover Isaac. His nakedness - so normal in the quiet of the night - seemed much more indecent in the hours of morning. Fabian summoned a blanket from a distant counter and covered the exhausted man with it. Rowan also moved forward quickly. She caught his hand as it shot out suddenly to grab her.

"Ms. Delacroix," he whispered. His pale fingers clutched onto Rowan's robes, arms pulling himself forward with all of the strength his could muster. Rowan staggered forward under his weight and held him as best as she could. Lescos rushed forward to support the two, holding the majority of Isaac's weight.

The exhausted man's face turned up towards her. His dark eyes had returned to that pale, translucent shade of ice. They remained in an unfocused daze, blonde eyelashes fluttering wildly with fatigue. But running down his face were two small delicate tracks of tears.

"Thank you," he choked. His mouth trembled, fingers digging into her shoulders almost painfully. "Thank you. _Thank you._"_  
><em>

Rowan's own lips quivered at the sight of the usually stoic man in such a state - bare, trembling and humble. Her own eyes stung in response.

"No, Isaac," she gasped. "Thank _you._ If it weren't for you, I... this..." She couldn't seem to find the words. "It's all thanks to you - all of it."

Isaac looked like he wanted to respond, but his eyelids seemed to be holding their last against the heavy hand of sleep. His mouth trembled once more - was it a smile that she saw grace his lips? His fingers loosened their hold on her robes before slipping away to the floor. He was asleep.

As Lescos hoisted Isaac away and onto a cot that Amrit had summoned, Rowan kneeled limply beneath the sterile light of the laboratory. Any energy in her arms seemed to have been sucked away by Isaac's prying fingers, but she felt no urgency to move. She allowed the implications of the night to wash over her slowly.

She thought of the black pools of Isaac's eyes as he'd stared back at her through the enchanted barriers - the familiar gaze of her patron from behind the eyes of the werewolf. She'd known him. And he'd known her.

The stinging heat from behind her own eyes finally spilled. They pulled a gasp from her lungs, and before she knew it, her chest was heaving with desperate breaths. Her diaphragm seized and contracted painfully. Another gasp pulled.

"Rowan?" Amrit called, worriedly. She rushed forward towards the younger woman. "Rowan, what's wrong? Are you all rig-"

"We did it," Rowan choked. The tears were now flowing wildly, blindingly. She could barely see the older researcher in front of her, but she felt her face pulling almost maniacally. She grinned wetly, grasping Amrit's searching hands tightly. She pressed her forehead to them and choked back another sob. "We did it!" she gasped again. She heard her late master's trumpeting laughter. What she would give to be able to see him again! "Master Belby, _we did it!_" She thought of Isaac's pale eyes, full of tears. She thought of Remus.

"We did it," she whispered.

She held onto her new mentor's hands and pretended that they were Belby's. She silently said a prayer for all of them.

She couldn't wait to see Remus.


	57. Of the Faults of Happiness

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay! We had a big deadline at work, so I've been in turbo nonstop for a while. Here's the silence before the fall.

Also, I'd read somewhere that J.K. Rowling compared lycanthropy in her story to the HIV/AIDs epidemic and prejudice. I just realized how appropriate of an analogy that is in this chapter considering the history of the HIV epidemic in the US.

**Guest...?:** I don't know how to address you because you didn't sign your review, but thank you so much! I'm so happy you're enjoying it!

**zmey9265:** Hello, and thank you! I had a huge smile on my face while reading your kind review! Thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy it! Please let me know what you think in the future!

**missalex3030:** Haha me too! Thank you, as always!

**SMGF1:** Some more Remus in this one! ^^

**misslak:** Thank you so much! It's been a lot of fun exploring through this amazing world that J.K. Rowling created, so I'm really glad you enjoy it as well. I'd do just about anything for her to continue writing about this universe, but I guess we'll just have to settle with me instead T_T

**DontTellMeImWrongBitch:** XD I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry haha. THANK YOU.

**WalkingInAWinterWonderlandxx:** Thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. So good to hear from you!

**SweetButteri:** No, thank _you_ for reviewing! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Thank you for the kind words and all the favoriting/following! I really appreciate it more than I can say!

**WRITE ME A REVIEW PLEEEEASE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 57: Of the Faults of Happiness<strong>

Was it a sin to be this happy?

The question rang through Rowan's mind for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. Around her were the numerous faces of her friends and allies. In her arms was the comforting weight of her godson. Her boyfriend's arm hung around her shoulders casually. His own face glowed contentedly as he spoke with their various friends. How was this not a dream?

It had been a week since that intense full moon, that night of miracles. Though she'd intended on keeping the results of their experiment quiet until they had run a few more trials, Fabian had immediately run home to his brother and told him the good news, and they both, in turn, told their sister Molly, who had, of course, informed the entire Order. Rowan thought dryly that she should have known this would happen.

And so, here she was at another raucous gathering of Order members and company, surrounded by tipsy laughter and raucous conversation. In addition to the usual party members, her colleagues had joined her to celebrate - after all, it was as much their success as hers. She noted happily that Amrit and Lescos were conversing amiably with Arthur and Kingsley to the side. Isaac was speaking in hushed tones with Mad-Eye Moody, which Rowan found somewhat amusing - could there be a more eccentric pair? Although she felt as if she were jinxing herself with the early celebration, she couldn't help but be swept away by her friends' kindness - what a blessing it was to have so many people eager to celebrate her successes.

"Winnie, is he getting too heavy?"

Rowan looked up to see Lily peering over at her from the couch with a concerned look. Rowan smiled and shook her head.

"No, he's perfect. Stop worrying about it and just relax!" she chided. Lily smiled tiredly and sank into the couch. Rowan grinned - clearly the new mother was still not getting much sleep.

Rowan peered down at Harry. He was still so frail, and yet such a present weight. She was pleased to see that he was awake, gazing around at the room curiously but calmly. His bottle-green eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. Rowan smiled gently.

"You look good together."

Rowan looked up at Remus, to see him also smiling quietly. Her head cocked quizzically, pulling a wider smile from him.

"You and Harry - you two look good together," he repeated. Rowan felt her cheeks flush slightly, though she wasn't sure why, but she grinned goofily.

"We're cute, yeah?" she giggled, pressing her cheek gently against Harry's chubby face. A quiet coo bubbled from his mouth.

He grinned. The hand that hung on her shoulder rose to thread its fingers in her loosely tied hair as he leaned against her slightly.

"Adorable," he agreed, knocking his head against her affectionately. He craned his neck down a bit. "You'd look better with your own though," he murmured. "With ours."

Rowan's face burned this time. She lowered her face in an attempt to hide her bright red cheeks, but Remus noticed, of course. He grinned and pulled her tightly into his side.

"Not yet though, right?"

Rowan grinned bashfully but shook her head in agreement, leaning into him. Then suddenly, she was blinded by a searing flash of light.

"Agh!"

She and Remus both recoiled in pain. Harry grunted slightly and whimpered, but he quieted as Rowan pulled him into her chest reflexively, cradling him comfortingly. Her own eyes still stung, however. Dancing lights floated in her line of vision as she tried to steady herself. Finally, the form of a young man began to take shape again slowly. It was Sirius. He was grinning toothily and holding Mina's camera in his hands.

"_God damn it!_ What the _hell, _Sirius?" Remus hissed, rubbing his still watering eyes.

Sirius simply barked out a laugh. "You two were looking way too cozy for me to _not_ take a picture! Trust me - you'll thank me later!" he promised dramatically before prancing out of the room with camera in hand. Rowan gaped after him.

"What an idiot," she muttered. Remus nodded in agreement as he blinked away the lingering blindness.

"Remus!"

The couple looked down to see Billy Weasley peering up at them with an anxious expression. Rowan smiled at the boy's face - he clearly adored the older man. He'd be leaving for his First Year at Hogwarts in just a week. It was no wonder that he could barely sit still. Molly had told her earlier that she'd been forced to hide his new wand out of fear that he'd get expelled for underage magic before even starting school.

"Can you show me those defense spells one more time? I think I got some of the wand movements mixed up," he said eagerly.

Remus grinned crookedly. "You're not going to need those for at least another few years, you know," he said cheekily.

Bill pouted. "Yeah, but I want to be ahead of the game! Come on, Remus!"

Remus smiled with some exasperation and nodded. "Okay, okay," he conceded. A smug look fell over his face. "Go find Sirius. He can be our test dummy." Bill laughed, running ahead and from the room, calling for the other Marauder.

Remus turned toward Rowan with a grin. "Gotta go beat the shit out of Padfoot."

Rowan laughed softly, accepting the swift kiss on the cheek from him. "Give him an extra hex for me."

Remus flashed her one more boyish grin before running off. Rowan smiled fondly after him before jerking slightly at the sound of a sharp whimper. Harry was beginning to cry.

"Looks like it's time to eat again."

Rowan looked up to see Lily rushing forward.

"You can go up to my room. No one should bother you there," she offered. Lily smiled thankfully.

Rowan handed Harry off to the redhead gently but reluctantly. She watched the pair wander off for a bit of privacy with a twinge of longing. She knew she wasn't ready for a child of her own yet, but she couldn't help but crave more time with her godson still.

She realized she was now alone. She looked around the room to see her friends all standing about in various conversing groups and suddenly felt strangely awkward. She discreetly stepped out of the room and made for the kitchen. Perhaps her mum or Alfred needed some help.

* * *

><p>Peering around the corner and down the hall, Rowan wandered down the long corridors. She gazed about the dimly lit halls and thought of her mother's plans to renovate. Surely, the house could use some more light, she thought to herself. The walls could also use a new coat of paint - something lighter. The deep red and gold had always been a beloved family color palette - for Gryffindor pride, of course - but it certainly left something to be desired in terms of interior illumination. Perhaps a paler yellow would be better.<p>

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a tall, lanky form. She grinned and scampered after it. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she opened her mouth to greet Alfred, but then caught herself when she heard murmured voices - he wasn't alone.

"... -n't need to apologize."

"Incorrect. I should. I should _have."_

_"_No, really, there's no need! It's been years, Isaac. I'm telling you - there's-"

"It does not matter how much time has passed. My behavior was reprehensible. I should have apologized long-"

"_No._ Look - what happened in the past is in the past. We've both moved on. _I've_ moved on. I-"

"_Ro-wan!"_

Rowan cringed as a sing-song voice rang out next to her. Both figures turned and saw her peeking around the doorway. Alfred froze, eyes wide and mortified, and beside him stood Isaac, looking blankly at her, though she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes. She grimaced ruefully towards them and then turned back to the source of the interruption - it was James.

The Marauder seemed to pick up on his intrusion and the awkwardness of the situation quickly. He looked between both parties dumbly before letting out a strange, high-pitched laugh.

"Ah haha... ha..." he chirped. He then stopped and looked to Rowan. "Have you seen Lily?" he asked shrilly.

Rowan wanted to punch her friend for being so dense. She cringed and bit back a groan of frustration.

"Upstairs. My room," she bit out.

James nodded quickly and then scampered down the hall as quickly as he'd come, leaving the two older men and Rowan standing awkwardly in silence.

Barely three seconds passed, and yet it felt like a short eternity. Rowan's mind screamed at a million thoughts per second, flailing hysterically at her to figure out a graceful way of exiting.

But before she could, Isaac spoke up.

"It appears that I am intruding."

Rowan's head jerked up to see Isaac moving towards her to leave. Her face burned, lungs hitting her throat.

"No, Isaac! No, _I'm_ the one-" she protested. But Isaac's hand reached forward and patted her on the shoulder quietly, effectively silencing her. His pale eyes gazed down at her evenly, and then his lips quirked ever-so-slightly upward into a gentle smile. Rowan gaped dumbly at the soft expression. His fair features seemed to capture what little light the room held and reflected it outward in a single gesture.

But then his hand slipped away, and he stepped out of the room and down the hall. He was gone.

The hallway suddenly seemed much dimmer in comparison. Rowan turned slowly to face Alfred, who was staring down at his feet, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted almost angrily. She hadn't seen him look so frustrated in ages.

"Alfred?" she called quietly.

Alfred didn't respond immediately. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing steadily. She noted that his hands were flexing tightly. His long fingers were taut and rigid. She could see his back muscles strain beneath the tailored lines of his dark robes.

Finally, his hands went slack. They hung at his sides for a moment like broken pendulums before he opened his eyes. She could see the effort still evident in the stiffness of his neck, but then he smiled in that patient avuncular way. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She smiled crookedly but said nothing. Alfred sighed and then gazed down the hall before speaking.

"Let's get some air, shall we?"

* * *

><p>It was still rather bright out. The yellow sun stung Rowan's eyes a bit as she and Alfred stepped into the Delacroix grounds. Rowan remained barefoot, her toes sinking into the warm grass. Alfred looked down and noted her bare toes with a small frown of disapproval but said nothing - he'd learned years ago that there was no use in reprimanding her on proper footwear.<p>

They sat down in the grass beneath Rowan's apple tree. Her father had planted it when she was born, and it now stood about 15 feet. The branches were much too thin for her to climb in her adulthood, but she still knew all of its twists and knobs by heart. She and James had climbed over it countless times as children and fallen out of it nearly half as often. She felt a bittersweet ache knowing that she couldn't climb it anymore as she once had.

The two sat silently for a moment, relishing the heat of the late summer and the quiet sounds of the birds. It had been a good amount of time since Rowan had really enjoyed a moment outside - she'd been stuck in her laboratory so often recently that she and Remus had barely enjoyed the summer at all. She made a note to herself that she should suggest a weekend at the beach soon before autumn started to peek around again.

"So... me and Isaac," Alfred finally started.

Rowan nodded. "You and Isaac," she echoed.

Alfred looked up at the sky through the branches of the trees thoughtfully. Rowan admired the lean line of his neck and his angular, chiseled features. She noted that he was becoming even more distinguished-looking as he aged. He'd turned 41 this year, hadn't he?

"As I'm sure you've guessed by now, he and I have some... history."

Rowan nodded again and waited for him to continue. He seemed to struggle to find the words to continue and Rowan also looked upward to relieve him of the weight of her gaze.

"He was a year ahead of me in school, in Ravenclaw. I met him through the Dueling Club in my Fifth Year," he started slowly. Rowan imagined a young, gangly Alfred and a fresh-faced Isaac in their Hogwarts robes. She noted that blue and bronze suited the pale man.

"Well, he was..." Alfred lingered, "he was beautiful back then. He still is now I suppose, but back then, I remember thinking he was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen.

"I'm sure you can imagine how hard it was, being a closeted gay teenager, especially in a house that prides itself in its ferocity. I don't regret that I was sorted in Gryffindor - I don't think I'd have it any other way - but it was difficult being surrounded by male peers who prided themselves in their brand of machismo when I was naturally rather effeminate.

"I met and befriended Isaac around October of my Fifth Year, and we quickly became very close. Though we were a year apart and in different houses, we clicked right away. I asked him to tutor me in Potions, and before I knew it, I soon found that all of my evenings and weekends were filled with time in the library with him or afternoons out on the grounds together. I thought he was the kindest, gentlest person I'd ever met. He was also first in his year. I wanted more than anything to be someone worthy of his affections. Within a few months, I was head over heels in love with him - my very first love."

Rowan thought back to her Fifth Year and nearly smiled at the similarities between her experience and his. She remembered the pain of balancing her friendship and romantic attraction to Remus. He'd also been so kind and intelligent. How difficult it must have been for Alfred - he'd had to struggle with hiding his sexual orientation on top of everything else.

"I spent months trying to sort it out. I stayed up hours every night trying to convince myself that I didn't like him, that I wasn't gay. I was able to get through a year of this without slipping up," he continued.

"But in March of my Sixth Year - his Seventh Year - I mucked it up."

Rowan perked up at this. She didn't dare look at him, but she could hear the gravel of long-buried anger in his voice. Was it directed at Isaac or at himself?

"I'd spent over a year convincing myself that Isaac was straight - that he didn't want anything to do with me in that way. I don't know if it was just the blindness of hope or simple foolishness, but no matter what I did, there was always a voice at the back of my head whispering that he felt the same way, that he loved me back."

Rowan's throat tightened. She knew how this story was going to end.

"It was March... We were in Hogsmeade together, just me and him," he said quietly. "It was the first day of spring - an unusually warm day for so early in the year. We'd done the usual rounds to the Three Broomsticks, Honeydukes... you know.

"I don't know what happened," Alfred murmured, "still, now, after all this time. I don't know why..."

Rowan listened carefully. She knew it was long-gone, a thing of the past, but for some reason, her heart still ached.

"I kissed him," he said plainly. His voice breathed still of shock, as if he still couldn't believe his own actions. "I kissed him in the middle of the street, with all of our peers around. Just like that."

Rowan stared hard on the grass between her toes. There were two stray blades, sticking to the bottoms of her feet, peeking up between her toes. She imagined them floating away with the wind, but there was no breeze. Her chest felt heavy, lungs tight with the summer heat.

"I kissed him, and everyone saw," Alfred repeated quietly, mostly to himself it seemed. "Everyone saw, and they knew. They knew I was gay.

"I'd thought, in all that time, that even if Isaac were to reject me, we would still be friends. He would feel uncomfortable, but we would get past it and still be friends.

"But as soon as he saw all of our classmates standing around us, he shoved me away. I'd never seen him look so horrified."

Rowan heard the slightest of trembles in Alfred's voice and felt a deep despair in the pit of her stomach. She could count all of the times she'd heard that quiver in him perhaps on one hand. She leaned against him tentatively. His bony shoulder was so familiar.

"'What is wrong with you?' That's what he said to me. He said, 'How could you do that? What is wrong with you?'" Alfred said quietly. There was no bitterness there, but even after 25 years, she still heard the hurt.

"Everyone heard it. They saw it. No one said anything, but they all stared," he said, voice trembling. He laughed softly, bitterly. "God, even now, it's still horrifying to think about.

"I ran. I just bolted," he breathed. "I wanted to vanish. I'd never been so humiliated in my life. I've never once felt that way since." He breathed deeply, releasing it through his nostrils tightly. Rowan saw his tightly fisted hands in the grass. They released and deflated tensely, as if he were forcing himself to relax.

"We didn't speak again for the rest of the year, but the damage was done. Word traveled quickly - everyone at Hogwarts knew I was gay within two days. My reputation recovered well enough - I was popular enough already that I was able to bounce back with my new identity relatively easily. My housemates were much more accepting than I'd thought - I can't tell you how grateful I was for that - but I'd lost Isaac. I'd lost my best friend. After he graduated, I never saw him again.

"So you can imagine how shocked I was when he showed up here - even more shocked when you told me he was a werewolf. I never would have guessed that that's how life turned out for him after all of this time," he murmured.

Rowan let Alfred's story wash over her. She'd known the man nearly her entire life, and yet, there was so much she didn't know about him. How had she never asked him about how he came out? How had she never asked him about his school romances? Their stories lined up in so many strangely similar ways, and she'd never known.

She thought to Isaac. She couldn't imagine the stoic man raising his voice or lashing out at _anyone_, let alone Alfred. Had it been difficult for him to see Alfred again? Had it been awkward for him to work with her after realizing her relationship with Alfred? There was so little she knew about her benefactor. He obviously felt some remorse for his past mistakes, so she couldn't really resent him, but the image of his past relationship with her uncle-figure was now burned into the back of her mind. Would he bring it up with her later?

"Well, we should head back in."

Rowan was pulled from her quiet brooding as Alfred suddenly moved forward, standing to his feet steadily. Rowan looked up at him with some confusion. From this perspective, he seemed as tall and invincible as he had to her when she was a little girl, but she couldn't miss the subtle, anxious look in his eyes, the worried line of his mouth. She stared a bit longer before he turned back down and smiled.

"Come on, you little monster. That boyfriend of yours is probably wondering where you are," he teased quietly, offering a slender hand to her.

Rowan couldn't help but smile at the name. She hadn't heard him call her that in a long time. She smiled warmly and took his hand, standing to join him. The red sun shown above the horizon, blazing hotly across the vast grounds of the Delacroix estate. Despite there being no breeze, she felt a strange static in the air.

* * *

><p>Isaac didn't seek Alfred out again for the rest of the evening, and the latter made no move to speak to the former. As he left later that evening, Isaac shot Rowan and Alfred that soft smile again but said nothing more and glided from the house silently. Rowan frowned after him and wondered if she would ever be able to read the cryptic man.<p>

Alfred, too, retired quietly for the evening. After he and her mother withdrew from the last remnants of the gathering, Rowan was left with Remus, Sirius and Mina in the kitchen.

The four sat catching up on gossip over firewhiskey and butterbeer. It had been a while since the two couples had been able to just sit and talk. Rowan was quite warm with the libations and affection for her dear friends. As she looked between Sirius and Mina, she noted that, while Sirius hadn't yet followed through with his confided intentions to propose, they both looked particularly happy. He had one arm draped casually over her shoulders, and the other rose every so often to flick his dark hair from his face handsomely. Rowan continued to be awed by how impressively beautiful they were together.

About thirty minutes into the conversation, Sirius leaned into his girlfriend with a broad, proud grin. She shot him a half-glare, but was obviously somewhat pleased. Rowan smiled confusedly as she watched Mina fight the smile from her face.

"Tell them your big news!" Sirius prodded.

Remus perked up a bit. "News?" he echoed.

Mina's mouth twisted slightly with conflicted expressions. Sirius grinned amusedly at her half-embarrassed, half-flattered grimace.

"Sirius," she whined.

Sirius snickered and leaned against her a bit more, teasing her further, but Mina wouldn't budge.

"I'm going to tell them if you don't."

"Don't!"

"I'm going to."

"_Sirius."_

Finally, Rowan groaned. "Oh my god, you two are killing me. Just tell us already!"

Mina turned away, strangely embarrassed, but Sirius seemed grow a couple of inches in his seat. His chest puffed out a bit as he pulled her in closer, which turned her cheeks a pretty blush.

"Mina's been promoted! Lieutenant Mina Surrey," Sirius declared proudly. Mina shrank a bit with embarrassment.

"That's fantastic! Congratulations, Mina!" Remus exclaimed.

"It really is! You should have said something!" Rowan scolded. "We should've been celebrating your promotion tonight as well!"

Mina smiled but shook her head. "No, tonight was about you, Row. Mine is nothing compared to what you've accomplished. We can celebrate my promotion later. Sirius is just making a fuss."

But it wasn't just a fuss. The Auror department was probably the most competitive out of all of the Ministry. Very few Auror Academy students were accepted into the department each year. Really, it was amazing that James, Sirius, and Mina had all been accepted straight out of it at the same time, so such a quick promotion to the rank of officer was even more impressive. Rowan marveled at her friend's accomplishments.

"So what changes now? New responsibilities?" Remus asked.

Mina nodded. "Yeah, I'll be reporting straight to Moody now and get my own platoon of Academy cadets. He wants me to start taking on more leadership in the Order too, so I'll be heading up the Dolohov Manor mission too. Frank obviously can't now with his baby."

The content of Rowan's stomach dropped suddenly as she heard Mina's soft response. She hadn't thought of the coming raid in the past few weeks in the light of her more urgent concerns. She hadn't taken part in such a high intensity mission in a while. Her hands ached slightly at the thought.

"Oh yeah," Remus acknowledged sullenly. He squeezed Rowan's knee under the table reassuringly. "Have you all decided on a date yet?"

Mina and Sirius shared a dark look. "In a couple of weeks," Mina said quietly. "We have information that You-Know-Who himself will be there sometime then, so we have to get the night right. And with the Longbottoms and James and Lily out of commission right now, it's even more delicate. I'd rather Arthur not come either, but it depends on if I can rally enough members for this one."

Rowan had to fight the tremble that shot through her, keeping her gaze hard. You-Know-Who... Lord Voldemort - she had never seen the elusive Dark Lord, despite spending all these years fighting against him. Many of her friends and comrades had been unfortunate enough to come face to face with him several times during their missions, but he still remained faceless in her mind. She squeezed Remus' hand tightly. Evan Rosier, Bellatrix Lestrange - these figures meant nothing in the shadow of their leader. She couldn't even fathom the cruelty of which he was capable.

"We'll be there."

Rowan's head shot up at the hard voice and was taken aback to see that it had come from Remus.

"You can count us in. Just tell us when and where, and we'll be there to back you up," he declared.

He was staring hotly at their friends, head raised high. He squeezed her hand almost painfully, and she gaped dumbly up at him. Who was this man? She felt heat score through her - was it his?

Sirius beamed at his friend, and Mina seemed to deflate with relief, smiling gratefully. Rowan noted the tired lines beneath her eyes almost guiltily - she wasn't the only one who had been overworked.

"Yeah," she said quietly, but confidently. She was surprised by the tone of her own voice, how her response came so naturally. But now that it had slipped from her lips, she felt as if they had branded it into the fabric of reality. "Yeah," she repeated, harder this time. "You have two spots on your teams filled with us at least."

The two women shared an affectionate gaze. Mina looked at Rowan with an intense look of gratitude. The corner of her mouth twitched for a moment, eyes crinkling. Rowan smiled warmly. She knew the brunette wasn't particularly expressive, but the simple movements spoke volumes to how relieved and thankful Mina was to have Rowan and Remus on her side. She still looked as fatigued as ever, but at least some of the burden had been lifted.

"Thank you," she choked out quietly. Sirius' chest puffed out.

"See, you'll get enough people in time. You're doing fine," he said encouragingly, gently. Mina leaned against him slightly and let out a small breath, closing her eyes momentarily, as if pressing the statement into her heart. When Mina opened her eyes again, they held a bit more of that familiar intensity. Rowan also sighed with some relief. She knew that if anyone could lead them into this mission, it was Mina and Moody, and as long as Sirius was at Mina's side, she was invincible.

* * *

><p>As they lay in bed at the end of the night, Rowan laced her fingers with Remus', pressing her cheek into his shoulder as he laid on his back. She thought back to the heated look in his eyes as they'd spoken to their friends and tried to meld it into her own form. She didn't know where this confidence had come from, but she hoped she might absorb some of it for herself.<p>

"Sirius and Mina have really grown up, haven't they?" Remus said quietly. Rowan smiled into his skin.

"I was thinking the same thing earlier," she murmured. "I don't know how Sirius can have any doubts regarding their relationship. It seems obvious to me how much she needs him."

Remus nodded, staring up at the night lights of the street as they danced across the ceiling. "True, but I suppose it's easier to see when you're removed from it."

Rowan hummed in agreement but then fell back into her thoughts for a moment. She still felt the remnants of Remus' previous fire. It flickered against the lining of her stomach and at the back of her throat.

"I'm sorry for just volunteering you for this mission," Remus whispered. "But it feels important. I feel like we have to be there."

Rowan smiled quietly and nodded. "It's okay. I'm glad you did. I don't know if I would've had the courage to say yes otherwise, and you're right - it does feel important. We should definitely be there. The Order certainly needs us now more than ever." She leaned against him a little more, curling her legs into herself a bit. "I have to admit that I was surprised though. I wasn't expecting such a response from you."

Rowan could see the small quirk of Remus' lips without looking at him. "I know. I wasn't expecting it either, but it just sort of came out before I knew it," he admitted. "It was just kind of visceral. I guess you're rubbing off on me."

Rowan felt him shift against her and she looked up to see him turning over slowly, releasing her fingers. He rolled onto his side and propped himself onto his elbow so that he could lean over her. His kind face filled her vision, light hair glowing in the white lights of the London street below.

"You know I'll always be here, right? We're going to make it through this mission together." He raised a slow hand to her face, stroking her cheek softly. Rowan's chest tightened, but she smiled softly. She ran her thumb over the small scar at his lip gently. It twitched upward fondly.

"I know."


	58. Of the Peak's Break

**A/N: **It's beginning.

**jjchickybabe:** Hello, and thank you so much! I'm really happy to hear that you're enjoying the story and characters. But no need to worry! Rowan will definitely survive the coming events and will play a role in the Order when Harry's grown. There will be some turmoil in the meantime, but our protagonist will persevere! Thank you so much again for the following and favoriting, and I really hope you continue to enjoy!

**Lovirosa:** Thank you! I'm afraid I don't understand your question - do you mean when will Rowan tell Remus about the success of her experiment? If yes, then we're assuming that he knows already since the Prewetts have announced it to essentially the whole Order. I realize now that I didn't illustrate his reaction. I probably should've done that -_- Sorry for overlooking that...

**SMGF1:** Thank you! Hmm I'd considered another M chapter, but I don't think it suits the tone at this point. I was thinking about writing up a couple of short vignettes separate from this file but of the same storyline, so if people _really_ want another M scene, I might consider doing something in that form. I'm also interested in a few chapters of Sirius x Mina from the Hogwarts days if that piques anyone's interest. I obviously don't want to put a lot of time into it if no one is going to read.

As for Lily and James, I think the big climax will occur pretty soon. It's the end of August now in this chapter, so it all happens in two months, chronologically. I imagine it'll happen within the next 5 chapters, and then it's just a matter of tying up the loose ends before wrapping this story up and heading to the next! Finally, right?

**Sweetbutteri:** Thank you! I really like Isaac's character, so I'm glad you approve of the small ties he has to the other OCs.

**DontTellMeImWrongBitch: **Thank you, as always ^^

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 58: Of the Peak's Break<strong>

Rowan had a dark sense of déjà vu.

It was the end of August - a deeply humid summer night. The black blanket of darkness fell over the hills outside of London heavily. Rowan could feel the night hanging on every inch of her skin like a dead weight. Her eyes scanned slowly over the swells of the hills. A bead of sweat dripped down the length of her back, punctuating each vertebrae like the gently rolling waves around her.

Dolohov Manor was even larger and more formidable than Lestrange Manor. Rowan was tempted to compare it to a castle, really. Two dark spires stood against the pillowy night sky. Their dim yellow lights hovered hazily amongst the heavy moisture.

Lord Voldemort was there. That's what their sources had told them at least. Rowan still couldn't seem to grasp the full gravity of such a claim. _Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, was there._

The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... The past three years had been an uphill battle against this figure, this terrible almost-man, and yet, she barely knew what he even looked like. She'd heard the tales - almost mythic in proportion - from survivors and her allies, but it was not as if photos were being published of him by _The Daily Prophet._ She knew many of her allies had brushed wands with him, and a few were fortunate enough to come out unscathed. But still, he seemed like a fairytale, a faceless monster in the closet. She knew she should be terrified of what lay ahead of her that night, but it felt almost like a detached dream.

"_Ready?"_

She looked ahead to see Gideon Prewett, Alastor Moody, and Sirius Black. She half-expected to see another head of red hair but then reminded herself that her usual partner wasn't there - they'd somehow convinced Arthur to stay home with his family at the last moment. Though she was deeply relieved that he was safe, it felt wrong to not have him by her side. She realized that Moody was looking at her questioningly. She nodded grimly and readied her wand as they moved. She couldn't shake this terrible sense of déjà vu.

* * *

><p>Remus wasn't sure if he should feel grateful or full of dread. He hadn't been assigned to the infiltration team this time - thank Merlin - but he was part of the protection team, draped with heavy concealment and disillusionment charms. He looked down and saw a slight shift in the darkness - his charms were fading already. With a slight flick of his wand, he brought the enchantments back up, effectively hiding his presence in the shadows once again. He let out a silent sigh and turned back towards the long hall below.<p>

He, Fabian, Peter, and Emmeline Vance had penetrated Dolohov Manor earlier in the evening as the Death Eaters changed guard shifts, sneaking past them through a series of tunnels and winding halls. They staked out the main points of the grand house and took up guard in each. Fabian had taken the west tower, which held the dungeons, in which were reported to be multiple prisoners; Peter had watch over the foyer; and Emmeline stood in the east watch tower, taking out the guards that stood at the ready there. This left the main hall to Remus.

_Of course,_ he thought dully.

He gazed down below at the dark figures gathered in the grand hall, murmuring to each other quietly - there were perhaps 13 there. Mina and Kingsley were down there somewhere, scattered amongst the group in place of the secretly arrested Augustus Rookwood and Zechariah Mulciber Jr., but he couldn't identify them from the silver glinting masks. He grimaced silently. It seemed like a much too risky operation, especially considering their low numbers, but Moody had insisted that they might not get another chance at the Dark Lord for a while. At the very least, they could gather some critical information from this meeting of Death Eaters. He just hoped that the benefits outweighed the risk.

He thought about Rowan momentarily. At least she had been assigned to the rescue team - her mission wouldn't require direct contact with the enemy if all things went according to plan. He grimaced silently - he could only hope things went that way. He still stood by his decision to come on this mission - something in his gut told him it was critical that he be here - but there was a soft, grating whisper at the back of his mind, like the small hum of tinnitus. He noted that Fabian was standing guard in Rowan's region - good. He felt a bit better as he thought of the fiery older man looking out for her.

The murmuring below then fizzled quietly, and a distinct electricity overtook the dimly lit room. The hair on the back of Remus' neck stood at attention as he felt the energy amongst the dark figures abruptly change. His sweat suddenly seemed much stickier.

"_My children._"

Remus' blood ran cold as a saccharine voice seeped out from a dark mist that had begun to accumulate, billowing quietly at the head of the room. A long dark tendril slithered out from the shadows - cloth? _No._ Remus' chest tightened as he realized that it was, in fact, a massive black snake, gliding silently across the dark stone of the floors, glistening in the yellow light. A couple of the already sparse candles flickered out beneath the caress of the black fog, bringing the room even further into darkness. The cloud gathered and thickened, solidifying into a tall, thin form draped in black. The robes fell and cascaded over a smooth expanse of pale, translucent skin. His red eyes pierced through room.

Lord Voldemort.

* * *

><p>The rescue team flew up the stairs to the west tower like a quiet storm. Rowan's heart pounded deafeningly in her head as she paced up the seemingly endless spire. The protection team had certainly done its job efficiently - there were no Death Eaters in sight. The foyer had been completely empty, save for Peter's quiet squeak from the shadows, and the tower held no guards at all. Rowan knew she should be pleased, but it all felt as if it were going too smoothly - shouldn't they have run into at least <em>one<em> obstacle since entering the manor?

But she continued upwards. If the culled information from the Ministry's captured Death Eaters was reliable, there should be about five prisoners held in the dungeons here. Rowan's stomach was tight with anticipation. She knew Lacey Jones, one of her old roommates from Hogwarts, had been missing for several weeks. Her older brother Isaiah had been the one to betray the Order two years ago - her shoulder ached a bit at the memory - and after he'd been convicted and sent to Azkaban, her family had spoken out against his actions, earning the spite of the Death Eaters. It was safe to assume that Lacey had been abducted as an act of retribution. She could only hope that the girl was safe and here where she could be saved.

As they climbed the stairs, the moon seemed to glow larger and brighter. The tall windows of the tower opened up the dark blanket of rolling hills in the distance with the blue light spilling and splashing onto the stone steps. As Rowan stepped into each puddle of light, she half-expected to be filled with its cold presence, but her lungs continued to sear hotly, face burning with exertion.

Finally, they reached the top, a vast round room of tall, iron bars running from ceiling to floor. In the middle of the room, the cold stone above was cut away, covered only by another series of daunting, cold bars, which sliced the icy light of the moon evenly. From their height hung medieval chains and shackles, which rattled ever-so-slightly with the soft breeze. Hanging from these shackles were the limp forms of four figures in tattered robes. One was a thin, mousy-haired young woman.

"Lacey," Rowan breathed.

The team rushed forward to the unconscious, chained prisoners with Sirius standing guard near the stairs. Rowan reached her old classmate first, while her teammates tended to the other wounded prisoners. Her kind, familiar face was bloodied and purpled, lip swollen and cracked.

"_Alohamora!"_ she whispered against the shackles, which flung open with a _clang, _releasing their prisoner into a heap on the ground. Rowan fell forward to grab Lacey before she collapsed to the cold stone, cradling her carefully. She pushed her hair from her face to see the paleness of her skin, almost blue. Checking her pulse, she confirmed with relief that she was still alive and raised her wand to her mouth.

_"Novo."_

Lacey's eyes flew open, mouth gaping as air surged from her lungs. She gasped and sputtered, hands flailing blindly. She released a panicked cry, holding her arms in front of her face in desperation.

"_No, please!_ No more!" she cried.

"Lacey, it's me! Lacey!" Rowan whispered hurriedly, trying to quiet her friend, but the young woman kept flailing.

"Please! Let me go! I don't know anything!"

"Lacey! _Lacey!"_ Rowan finally grabbed the woman by the shoulders and shook her hard. Her head jerked roughly, choking on her lungs until her eyes focused on Rowan's face.

"R-R-Rowan...?" she sputtered. "H-how? What are you...?" Her eyes then widened, mouth falling open again in fear.

"No... _No, _shouldn't be here!" she choked out. Her hands grabbed Rowan's shoulders wildly, fingers gripping and pulling at her robes. "You don't understand! You shouldn't be here! You have to get out now! You have to leave-"

"Lacey, it's okay. We're here to get you out. You're going-"

"_No!"_ Lacey shouted. Rowan recoiled at the sudden outburst. She gawped at the usually quiet girl in her arms, who was now pushing Rowan away as roughly as she could. "You have to get out of here! Don't you understand? _It's a trap!"_

Rowan's blood ran cold.

_What?_

Lacey suddenly shoved Rowan down to the ground as a blast of green light shot over their heads. Rowan's cheek crashed against the hard stone of the dungeon floor painfully. Her ears rang, eyes blurring slightly, at the collision and could already feel her face bruise hotly.

But she didn't have time for that. She rolled quickly to her feet.

_"Protego!"_ she shouted, bringing up a shield over her team just in time as a Stunning Spell shot directly at Moody.

"Disperse!" the old Auror commanded. The team then scattered for the tall pillars that dotted the dungeon. In a burst of adrenaline, Rowan grabbed and essentially threw Lacey behind the nearest pillar before diving behind it as well. Her lungs burned.

"_Don't move!"_ she shouted at the injured girl, who nodded quickly, body trembling and collapsed against the tall structure. Her body seemed to shrink into its base.

Rowan had to precariously shield herself behind the column while also maintaining her balance over Lacey's crouched form. Once she had her bearings, she took a breath a threw her wand out from behind the column.

But before she could get out her hex, the words seemed to catch in her throat. Attacking them wasn't any Death Eater - it was _Fabian_.

Her dear friend and colleague was attacking with a wild abandon she'd never seen, face contorted into the most twisted snarl. His face suddenly turned towards her, eyes burning with spite.

"_Crucio!"_

A beam of red light shot out at her. Rowan threw herself behind the column again as the beam shot past her and crashed into the far wall with an echoing crash. A few large stones from the wall cracked and fell into a heap. Rowan eyed the remaining structure briefly and prayed that it would hold before throwing another protection charm up around her and Lacey.

"_Fabian!"_ she heard Gideon cry out. "What the hell are you doing?"

But Fabian didn't respond. Instead, another beam of light ricocheted against the walls of the dungeon dangerously. She heard another crash and saw one of the chains that hung from the bars above collapse to the floor. It clanged loudly, echoing around the room in harmony with the shouts from her teammates.

"It's no use!" Moody shouted over the dissonance. "He's been Imperiused! He can't hear you!"

Rowan's stomach clenched. _Imperiused?_ Her eyes widened in realization as she identified the crazed yet blank look in his eyes. But no one should know that they were there! And even if the Death Eaters had caught him, they would have more likely killed him than Imperiused him. How would they have known to use him against them in this situation? He would've killed himself before giving into interrogation or Legilimency.

She fell to her knees and grabbed Lacey by the shoulders roughly. The frail woman whimpered.

"Lacey, listen to me!" she growled. "What did you mean this was a trap? How did they know we were coming?"

Lacey whimpered again, eyes wide and wet. Her mouth trembled and twisted despairingly.

"I-I don't know, but they knew! They knew you were coming! They're planning on ambushing the others as well!" she choked out.

Rowan's lungs hit her throat. "They knew we were coming! We've been betrayed!" she shouted.

"God _damn it!_" Sirius roared as he flung curse after curse at the strangely agile Fabian. "Fucking shit, Fabian!_ Damn it!"_

Rowan groped inside her robes for her enchanted Death Eater mask with panicked, fumbling hands and tapped it three times with her wand. She felt it burn against her ribs and knew that the others would feel it as well. She could only hope that they were still safe enough to heed the warning and escape.

* * *

><p>Remus couldn't feel his lungs as he stared at the daunting figure of the most dangerous Dark wizard the modern world had ever seen.<p>

"Thank you for coming. _My friends._"

The last word oozed from his mouth venomously. The gathering of dark-clad figures seemed to at once shrink and grow at their master's acknowledgement like the swelling of the tide. Remus marveled at the way the pale wizard could conduct his followers like a symphony with barely a word. He was afraid - more afraid than he'd ever fathomed - but he couldn't help but acknowledge the permeating aura of this man. _This_ was power.

"Tonight is a very special night. I am so pleased that you all could be here to share in it with me," the Dark Lord continued. His voice was much higher than Remus had expected. It dug into his chest like a blade.

"Our collected efforts as of late have been greatly fruitful. I cannot express how truly _proud_ I am of my Death Eaters," he continued. Remus noted the way Voldemort spoke of the group as a collective, and yet at closer examination, there was an iciness to the way he gazed upon them - almost a blankness - that undercut his words. This man was a master of flattery, of manipulation. He could see easily how men of weaker convictions would be seduced by his power and charisma.

"But tonight is truly exceptional, for we have guests."

Remus froze. He couldn't be... There was no way.

"It is with great joy that I announce that the destruction of the Aurors will commence tonight, and with them, the Order of the Phoenix shall fall."

A few Death Eaters let out low rumbles of barely concealed excitement. Remus saw one trembling with elation - Bellatrix Lestrange.

Suddenly, there was a hot flash at his side. Remus bit back a gasp as he felt the heavy Death Eater mask in his robes burn against him. It clashed against the icy horror that shot up his spine - _danger._

Remus jerked back to look down to the crowd. _Where were Mina and Kingsley? _His eyes scoured through the dark figures but couldn't make out which were theirs.

"So please, help me in welcoming the first of our guests..."

Remus' mind screamed. _They needed to get out. He had to find them. They needed to get out!_

"... Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mina Surrey."

The pool of black parted, leaving two lone figures in the center of the room, and he knew it was his friends, trapped like mice. Remus saw their stiff backs try to fight the fear and surprise, but he could see no way to get out this. All the blood from his face seemed to drain into his arms, which suddenly burned with adrenaline. His hand gripped his wand, ready to attack at any moment. But what could he even do?

Lord Voldemort smiled widely, a stretch of thin lips over yellowing teeth. "Oh, dear, you didn't need to get dressed up for us," he cooed. A few sniggers were heard from the Death Eaters. "Here, allow me to help you get _comfortable."_ And with that, he raised his hand casually. The silver masks shot from their faces, revealing a glowering Mina and solemn-faced Kingsley. The two masks flew through the air, glinting in the yellow light of the room, and then landed with a loud clatter a far distance away.

Remus' stomach seemed to collapse on itself. Seeing his friends' faces only doubled the panic. This was real - so very real.

"So," the pale wizard said quietly, "tell me - what brings such individuals as yourselves to our humble gathering?" He eyed the two narrowly, eyes red slits.

Mina bristled visibly. Remus could feel the burning rage coming off of her in waves, but Kingsley maintained calm. The older man assessed the Dark Lord evenly before responding:

"We've come to kill you."

A sharp shriek of female laughter rang out and echoed around the hall. Remus bristled this time. How he hated that sound. How he hated Bellatrix. He wanted to tear her windpipe from her throat so that she could never make that sound again.

"Yes, it is quite amusing," Voldemort mused lightly, but his eyes remained narrow. He sneered at Kingsley. "But I know the real answer, as do you. And I can assure you that your little _rescue_ mission has run into some obstacles. I imagine we'll be seeing your friends here quite soon, though I can't guarantee their well-being. That depends entirely on them."

"You're full of shit," Mina spat.

Voldemort glared piercingly at the young woman, but she didn't waver. Her chin was held high and defiantly, nostrils flaring with anger. Remus wasn't sure if he wanted to clap a hand to her mouth or bow at her feet.

"You'd be wise to keep that mouth shut, _Lieutenant," _he sneered. But then he smirked evilly at her. "Yes, I suppose congratulations are in order - such a big promotion, after all. This was your first big command mission, wasn't it?" The smirk broadened into a grin. "I remember when the Auror department was a competitive arena. What a sad state it's become - accepting filthy Mudbloods into its officers' ranks. Pathetic."

Kingsley's hand shot out to grab Mina's wrist as it flew out reflexively to hex the Dark Lord. Her eyes flared dangerously with fury, teeth bared in defiance. The Dark Lord let out a high ringing of laughter.

"Amusing!" he declared, clapping his long-fingered hands together loudly. "Very amusing! I will say, even for a Mudblood, you are quite the sight to behold!" He grinned gleefully. "I do wish I could play with you a bit longer, but I suppose it's about time to wrap this up." He raised his wand. "Goodbye, Lieutenant. Sergeant Major.

"_Avada K-"_

Remus' hand shot out before he could stop himself.

"_Suffumare!"_

Rancid, black smoke exploded from his wand, instantly filling the vast room with a billowing cloud of impenetrable haze and the deafening sound of coughs and the Dark Lord's furious screams.

"_NO!_ _Kill them! KILL THEM!" __  
><em>

Bursts of shouts and green light began to erupt through the smoke, illuminating it like lightning. Remus leapt down from his vantage point in the balcony above the hall and slunk across the walls towards the exit quickly. He pointed his wand towards the fog and thought hard: _Accio Mina! Accio Kingsley!_

For a brief, yet painful moment, Remus stared into the chaos he'd created until two dark silhouettes came hurdling towards him - his spell had been successful! They staggered and sputtered a bit, gasping for air as they quickly readied themselves. In a moment, they were steady, and with a dark look, they sped out of the hall wordlessly. They needed to get to the west tower immediately.

* * *

><p>Rowan's lungs burned as another Death Eater fell to the wayside. They seemed to just continue pouring into the dungeon. Moody already had a deep, bloody gash in his left shoulder, and Gideon was on the brink of hysterics as he fought his twin brother. Sirius was beginning to slow as well under the exertion of the battle. Rowan was growing more and more afraid that either she or he would slip from the fatigue. <em>Where were their backup?<em>

Somehow during the battle, Rowan had managed to push Lacey behind a thick stone wall, where she was safely huddled from the crossfire - one less thing to worry about. The other three prisoners had each found a nook or cranny to squeeze into to avoid getting hurt as well. But the remaining barricades were wearing thin - the column that Rowan stood behind was beginning to crumble. It wouldn't be long before it completely collapsed. She wasn't sure if she was more worried about losing her shield or about the room simply collapsing from the lack of structural support.

Finally, the flow of Death Eaters seemed to halt. About four remained, including the cursed Fabian, who was still fighting with an inhuman mania. His body flailed with a strain that was so tightly wound that he appeared he might snap at any moment - he was clearly struggling against the restraints of the curse, but it was obviously strong. Whoever had performed it was well-practiced.

"Fight it, Fabian! Fight, damn it!" Moody roared at their imprisoned ally. The Prewett brother's face strained and contorted strangely at his friend's beseeching, arms and legs jerking stiffly, but the curses continued to fly.

One of the Death Eaters fell from one of Sirius' attacks with a grunt, leaving two dark-clad figures. One was a tall, lanky man. The other was a hulking, domineering form. Moody and Gideon had taken on Fabian's hysterical attacks, leaving Rowan and Sirius to confront the last two. She leapt from behind the column, throwing hexes skillfully as she ran for Sirius' position.

"Lookie here - our two favorite blood traitors," the larger one sneered. His voice was a gravelly rasp. Rowan recognized it as belonging to Antonin Dolohov, the master of the house. "What luck. The Dark Lord will reward us greatly for this one, won't he?" he asked his comrade. The taller Death Eater didn't respond but continued to eye them silently. Rowan eyed him suspiciously.

"Enough small talk. Let's get this over with, old man," Sirius growled. And with that he flung himself towards the older wizard with a well-timed series of attacks.

Rowan quickly covered Sirius, alternating between attacks and shield charms for the two of them. She kept an eye on the larger wizard though watched the tall man warily. Although he was attacking efficiently, he fought with an almost apathetic, machine-like manner. He didn't seem to battle with the same fervor she identified with Death Eaters. He didn't seem to have the same drive to kill as his allies.

Finally, one of Sirius' hits landed. A red beam of light nailed the older wizard in the chest, and with a loud grunt, he collapsed to the ground. This left the taller one. Sirius and Rowan turned their wands on him quickly.

The last Death Eater seemed to understand his situation - he was clearly outmatched. Although Sirius and Rowan were tired from battling longer, they had the advantage of numbers and of fire. Rowan could nearly hear the gears turning in the Death Eater's head. What would he do?

He bolted.

"Hey!" Sirius shouted. They both took off after him, leaving Moody and Gideon to handle Fabian, who looked like he might collapse at any moment. The two sprinted down the tower stairs, winding around and around the spire dizzily, but no matter how fast they ran, they were only able to catch the tail glimpse of the Death Eater's billowing black robes.

But once they reached the top floor of the main house, the Death Eater stopped and spun around, wand armed in front of him. All three stood battle-ready, chests heaving and faces burning with exhaustion. The hall was completely silent except for the pounding of their own hearts in their ears. The deep velvet of the tapestries that hung on the walls seemed to absorb what little light there was.

"You're too late," the Death Eater finally said. His voice was muffled behind his mask, but Rowan knew that voice. She glowered at him.

"It's never too late, Barty," she said slowly. "You can give up now. If you cooperate, we can give you a lighter sentence. It's better than dying here."

Barty laughed quietly. It was a bitter sound.

"There's no saving me, Rowan," he said softly. "And I can tell you now that there's no salvation for you either. Even if you manage to escape here tonight, someone has already signed your death warrant for you."

Rowan felt that empty hollowing in her stomach again. "What are you talking about, Barty?" she asked quietly.

Barty didn't respond for a moment. He stared the two Order members down with a searching look. Rowan could see his brown eyes scanning over her face from behind his silver mask.

Finally he answered, "You must realize that one of yours is not really yours."

Rowan could see Sirius bristle from beside her, but he didn't respond. She didn't know how to either. Her mind began to race through the faces of her teammates and friends. Could Barty really be telling the truth? Why would he lie? Did it really make sense to try to justify Death Eater behavior? Rowan was about to speak when she heard a loud explosion that shook the very foundation. It had come from the tower above. Fear gripped her heart again.

"Shit!" Sirius cursed. "What the fuck?"

"Better get back upstairs. Someone could be hurt," Barty said seriously. Rowan glared hard at him, but he made no indication of jeering. Rowan and Sirius glanced between each other, Barty, and the stairs they had just run down. Rowan felt her legs moving in multiple directions.

"You-" she started, gesturing towards Barty. There was another loud _bang _and a distant, incoherent shout. Her stomach seized sickeningly. Her wand was still armed and pointed at Barty, but she couldn't seem to move in either direction.

Finally, heat surged through her bones. She spun back around. "Fuck!" she cursed before running for the tower. She glanced back. "This isn't over, Barty!" she shouted back at him.

Sirius started backwards cautiously, throwing Barty one last glare. The Death Eater dropped his wand in an act of truce, allowing Sirius to run for the tower after Rowan, before turning on his heel and making a beeline for the great hall.

* * *

><p>As Rowan turned the corner of the last leg of stair, she felt the ground shake again and then a loud crash of stone. She had to stop running for a moment to steady herself, gripping the wall of the staircase for balance, before sprinting up the remaining stairs. <em>Please be safe<em>, she screamed in her head. She heard Sirius' feet quickly catching up with her from behind. He reached her just as they approached the dungeon at the top.

But as they stumbled into the dungeon once more, they nearly toppled over.

The dungeon floor had completely cracked down the middle, revealing a large chasm. Rowan dared to look down and saw the small fragments of stone plummeting and bouncing down into the dark recess. Her stomach clenched painfully.

"Moody!"

Rowan's head jerked up again to see the old Auror gripping his leg, which was trapped beneath a pile of collapsed stone. Rowan felt a wave of nausea. Blood soaked the floor around him darkly. His leg had been completely crushed. Sirius made a move to run to him.

"No!" he shouted, gesturing for the young man to stop. His movements were strained, face pale from blood loss. He gestured jerkily towards the distant wall. "The Prewetts - help them!" he sputtered. Rowan saw him point his wand at his leg with a dark look of determination and had to look away quickly. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to do, and she didn't want to see it.

Fabian had finally collapsed but was seizing limply in his brother's arms, eyes rolled into the back of his head, mouth slack and open. Gideon was on the verge of hysterics, holding his twin, kneeling on the crumbling floor. Tears tracked his face lightly, and Rowan finally noticed the dark red stains that coated his hands. She then saw the wetness of Gideon's black robes.

"Fabian," she gasped, running towards them.

"No!" Sirius barked. Rowan gaped at him. "Get the prisoners! I'll take care of the Prewetts," he said quickly. Rowan's chin trembled, but she nodded, quickly turning to retrieve the ones for whom they'd originally come.

She spotted Lacey and another prisoner - an old, gray man - trembling in the corner. The old man looked half-awake, eyes rolling, and Rowan immediately summoned a levitating stretcher for him as she ran forward. Lacey looked up at her with wide eyes full of fear, clutching the older man desperately. Rowan saw her face tremble. But just as she was about to reach them, she saw a dark collapsed figure out of the corner of her eye stir from the ground - Antonin Dolohov. He raised his head, then his wand.

It happened in slow motion. She felt her mouth open to scream for her friends and her wand raising to disarm the Death Eater, but she was too late. There was a flash of light and then an explosion, and she was flying backward.

There was that déjà vu again, that strange ache. It spread from the gash on her cheek and through her head and neck. There was a ringing in her ears. She landed on her knees with a distinct cracking sound echoing up her frame. Her body flopped hard to the ground. Her head seared. She couldn't hear anything. The world spun wildly around her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. There was a distant cracking, a dull scream. She couldn't find her eyes.

"_Novo!"_

Rowan's lung seared cold and freezing. She cried out and gasped at once as she sat up with a jerk. Her body screamed in protest. Her hands gripped her head in instinct. It seemed to loll heavily. She leaned forward and allowed the person at her side to guide her. Her arm was draped around something. Another arm was wrapped around his middle - whose? Was it hers? No, that made no sense. An arm. Whose arm?

The screaming in her ears pinched slowly until it narrowed into a distant ringing. Her head began to steady, manually righting it up. She looked around dumbly and saw the round face of someone - a man? She knew that man.

"Winnie!"

Rowan's eyes focused. Oh.

"Peter."

She gazed around - where was she? So much stone. It was dark. She didn't recognize this place. Her head hurt so badly. Her side was searing. Why did everything hurt?

She looked up again. Had Peter always been so tall? Peter. Peter. Peter. His name was Peter. Right?

Another face. Red. It was covered in red. And the other. He was pale. She looked down. More red. It was everywhere. On his hands. On the floor. On his arms and chest. On his... Leg. Just one. Where was the other?

"_Constans."_

Slowly, Rowan's vision seemed to focus and narrow, and suddenly, she was extremely aware of the pain in her leg, in her head. She hissed with agony, grabbing her knee. The pain from the focal point of her knee shot up her thigh and down her shins into the very tips of her toes. She appeared to have broken it.

She realized, also suddenly, where she was - or rather, where she wasn't. She was no longer in the tower. When had they left? She looked around frantically. Peter was there. Oh, he'd saved her, hadn't he? How had he gotten there? Sirius was there, face bloodied but intact, and Moody... Her stomach clenched sickeningly. His right leg from the knee down was completely gone. A pool of blood was accumulating beneath him on the cold marble floor. In the puddle of blood lay Antonin Dolohov, the large Death Eater from the tower, unconscious and beaten so severely that she could barely recognize him beneath the swelling of his face.

Her stomach seized again.

"Where are Fabian and Gideon?" she whispered.

She looked around and saw Sirius' face contort with fury, but his eyes glistened with grief. She saw him clench his swollen, purple fingers. She recognized that movement. She could feel her own joints ache in memory. The blood drained from her face.

"Sirius..."

He grimaced and shook his head sadly. "The explosion... It took out half of the dungeon. They didn't..." He choked a bit, then cleared his throat. "They didn't make it."

His words washed over Rowan heavily. Fabian and Gideon - how could they...? They couldn't just be gone... could they?

"Move," Moody grunted. They all gaped down at him, amazed that he was even still conscious. "-have to move!"

They all shot up at attention at his words. They really did need to escape. Sirius hauled Moody onto his back, and Peter summoned a series of ropes, tying up and levitating the unconscious Antonin Dolohov. He then scooped up Rowan from the ground with a surge of strength she'd never seen in him then ran off after Sirius with Dolohov floating behind them.

As Rowan looked up into Peter's round face, she noted the hard line of his mouth and the watery look of his eyes. There was so much grief there.

* * *

><p>As they stumbled out of Dolohov Manor, they saw another group of dark-clad figures burst from around the corner. Remus, Mina, Kingsley, and Emmeline came to a halt quickly, eyes wide with surprise. Each was battered and bruised as well, robes torn and frayed. Emmeline, in particular, looked worse for wear. Their faces blanched as they saw the state of their comrades.<p>

"Identify yourselves!" Sirius barked raspingly.

Rowan saw their faces harden slightly. Mina's mouth twitched before drawing upward.

"Lieutenant Mina Surrey of the Auror Department and Order of the Phoenix. Ministry codename: Red Fox. You and I moved in together one year after we graduated from Hogwarts on July 1st," she recited quickly.

Sirius' mouth trembled a bit, but he nodded and moved down the line. Each member of the newly arrived group efficiently declared themselves. After Kingsley, Sirius let out a deep sigh, dropping his wand to his side, and Mina rushed forward. She grasped his face, eyes wide with horror. Her fingers roved over his skin quickly, identifying each cut and gash. Rowan had never seen her friend so panicked.

And then when she saw her mentor's state - limp and now unconscious against Sirius' back - her panic turned to frenzy.

"What happened? Sirius, what happened to Moody? Where are the Prewetts and the prisoners? How did this-"

Remus reached forward and grabbed Mina's arms gently, but his gaze was hard.

"Mina, we have more pressing matters to tend to. We have to get out of here now," he said quickly. As if on cue, a series of angry shouts were heard from within the manor. Mina trembled, but she nodded, hardening back into her soldier form. She shot Sirius and Moody another look before turning on her heel and looking to Kingsley. He nodded and they led the way into the dark night for the barriers.

Remus rushed forward and grabbed Rowan quickly from Peter, scooping her up into his arms. She gasped as her leg jostled against his arm but bit her lip to hold back the cry of pain. He looked at her darkly then at her swollen joint but said nothing, much to her relief. She nestled against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck for support as he swept them into the shadows. The group moved quickly from Dolohov Manor through the darkness. Mina and Kingsley covered the group with heavy Disillusionment Charms as they moved. As soon as they made it past the grounds' enchantments, they Disapparated for London.


	59. Of Fraying Edges

**A/N**: So sorry for the wait! I had friends in from out of town, so there was much debauchery. Here's another long one, somber.

I'm imagining Fabian's wand as spruce.

**a. moonbeam: ** I know there's no space in your pen name, but FF. net is weird and won't allow me to type it correctly. Anyway, THANK YOU! I'm really very flattered that you've been able to develop a bond with the characters and have enjoyed my story, even the slower chapters. I hope you continue to enjoy Remus and Rowan's journey with me. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think in the future. Thank you so much again!

**Sweetbutteri:** Thank you! The faster chapters are some of my favorites to write, though I'm very sad about the Prewetts too. I'd been dreading writing that scene for a while :/

**SMGF1:** Thank you as always!

****lovirosa:** **Thank you so much! And as always, you're right on with your deductions ^^

****DontTellMeImWrongBitch:** **That last one was pretty emotional for me too :[ I loved the Prewetts.

**WRITE ME A REVIEW!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 59: Of Fraying Edges<strong>

August trickled into September with an empty silence.

It seemed just like a matter of time before the Order of the Phoenix fell apart. They'd only lost two in the disastrous mission at Dolohov Manor, and yet all of their spirit seemed to have died with the Prewett brothers. Fabian and Gideon had not only been experienced comrades - they'd been the Order's morale, its heart and laughter. How could the Order even hope to continue on with any fervor without them? Rowan continued to find herself choking on miserable heat at the back of her throat at various points in the day as she thought of Fabian's steady encouragement and Gideon's ready laugh. It didn't seem possible for them to really be gone when she could still hear their voices so clearly! But as she gazed around at her empty laboratory, it seemed evident that the joyful laughter of her colleague and his brother were forever silenced from this world.

Molly had been devastated, understandably. She'd lost both of her older brothers in one night. Rowan had never heard such a terrible sound of pain as the one that had sprung from the older woman's throat when they'd fallen back into Headquarters without the twins. She could feel something break within all of them at the sound. Arthur, too, was inconsolable, for he'd stayed at home with his family instead of coming with them. He continued to blame himself. Each tear that fell held the weight of their heavy guilt.

"I should have been there! I should have been there to protect them!" he had sobbed. There didn't seem to be any way to console the Weasley family. Rowan thought of poor Bill who had to leave his grieving parents for Hogwarts. She mourned that his First Year at Hogwarts would be darkened by the loss of his uncles.

Rowan's knee and Sirius' head had healed efficiently with some treatment from Lily, but Moody's right leg was completely gone. In the efforts to subdue the Imperiused Fabian, the curse had simply grown too much for the man to handle. His wand had backfired against its master as a result of his moral chaos, causing part of the ceiling to fall onto the older Auror, completely crushing his leg. He mused darkly that it had actually saved his life - if he hadn't been trapped beneath the rubble, he would have been with the Prewetts when Dolohov had shot his last curse, and he, too, would have perished in the explosion. From that perspective, a leg hardly seemed like a heavy price for his life.

It was clear now that there was once again a traitor within the Order. But who? Someone had told the Death Eaters that they were coming. Even if one didn't take Lacey's warnings into account, how else could they have captured and Imperiused Fabian with the intent to ambush the rescue team? How else would they have known _exactly_ who had infiltrated the inner circle meeting with the Dark Lord? Nearly every aspect of the mission seemed to have been revealed to the other side. It was a miracle that Mina, Kingsley, and Remus had survived at all.

After the trio had fled from the main hall, the Death Eaters had pursued them. They'd used the narrowness of the corridors to their advantage as they fought their way through the manor. Emmeline had joined them after Rowan had sent out the warning, but they hadn't made it through fast enough to help the rescue team.

The only hole was that Remus had gone undetected, allowing Mina and Kingsley to escape. For a reason no one could understand, the mole had conveniently left out Remus' presence on the protection team when relaying the mission plan to the Dark Lord. But why? They could have just as easily captured Remus with Fabian and used him in the same way. And why hadn't Emmeline and Peter been captured as well, for that matter? Rowan also wondered where Barty had gone after their duel - if he'd gone to assist his allies in the great hall, he would have been able to attack Remus and company from behind while they were unawares. It seemed illogical that the only one caught and Imperiused had been Fabian.

Blame was thrown back and forth. Accusations of guilt were shot haphazardly. Sirius was convinced that the traitor was on the protection team - why else had Fabian been the only one captured? Remus, Peter, and Emmeline had been overlooked because one of them was the mole!

But no, James had argued back. All three of them had come to their allies' aid as soon as they'd realized they'd been betrayed. The mole would have stood by to let his or her teammates be killed. Their destruction would have been assured if the mole had been one of them - after all, they had plenty of time and the advantage of disillusionment to sabotage all three teams without raising any alarm. So it couldn't be one of them.

Mina bit back that James was being naive. The mole wouldn't give his identity away so readily unless he was completely sure that his master had a guaranteed victory. The traitor was more valuable to the Dark Lord if he seemed unlikely as the traitor, someone who was easily trusted. He'd probably kept the Death Eaters' logic muddled to maintain his disguise.

But any mole, regardless of what team he or she was on, would be able to give full disclosure of the mission to the Dark Lord, Lily had argued indignantly. All three teams had been fully briefed on the mission plan. Every member was able to give each team's location and details, so even if the traitor were on the rescue or infiltration team, he would be able to pass on the protection team's movements and targets to the Death Eaters beforehand. Therefore, a complete victory _had_ been guaranteed, given that all of the information was likely relayed.

And so the mystery remained. They were no closer to finding the culprit than before. No member left the Order meeting without a bitter taste in his or her mouth. Sirius had glared scathingly at both Remus and James as he and Mina had left. She, in turn, wore a deeply torn expression between desperate frustration and suspici. Peter looked sick with grief, more distraught than Rowan had ever seen him, if that were even possible. Molly's despair was muddled with fury. She and Arthur had left without a word to anyone.

Rowan had never felt so lost - not only had she lost two dear colleagues and allies, her closest friends were now standing off against each other when they needed to rally together more than ever. Moody still remained at St. Mungo's for his leg - another man down in their already dwindling ranks. Arthur, Frank and James were convinced that they needed to get back into action, but their determination did nothing to assuage Rowan's fears. As she thought of little Ron, Neville, and Harry, she was filled with a deep sense of dread that coated her stomach acidly. The distant horizon looked ever darker.

* * *

><p>Remus gazed around the kappa sanctuary of the I.C.E. emptily. He sat at the research table, leaning back in his chair tiredly, half-expecting to hear that familiar, jolly voice again. He reprimanded himself silently - he knew he would never hear that voice again, and yet, he continued to hope.<p>

It had been a week since Fabian and Gideon's death, and with Fabian now gone, his department was without a Head. There was a quiet electricity around the office as news of his grisly death spread.

_Did you hear about Fabian? How could this happen? _

_I heard he was in Dumbledore's army and was murdered by Death Eaters. They say Antonin Dolohov was arrested the same night. They have to be related. _

_What's going to happen to the department now? _

Remus couldn't bear the whispers anymore and had locked himself in the kappa sanctuary, left alone with the strange little creatures, but even they seemed to be mourning the researcher's death quietly. They had been sluggish, dragging themselves through the water and showing a lack of interest in the intruding wizard. It seemed that there was no way to distract himself from the sudden void his mentor/employer had left.

He felt his stomach clench again with dread. He'd only been able to get this job with his condition as an act of good faith from Fabian, and now with him gone, the security of his position seemed to be hanging by a thread. The name of the new Head had yet to be announced, but no matter which candidate they chose, it seemed almost definite that it would be someone with objections to his position at the I.C.E. Death Eater werewolf activity had been on the rise, and with it, prejudice against werewolves was growing rampant. Fabian had kept word of his condition hushed and the colleagues who were aware in check, but now... He shuddered.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the younger kappas peeking out at him from a growth of tall reeds. Its shiny bald head reflected a bit of light as it stared openly at the wizard. Remus smiled quietly and picked up a slice of cucumber from his table, tossing it to the young kappa. It jumped slightly with surprise as it saw the vegetable piece floating forward and then scrambled excitedly, snatching up the slice in its little claws before turning and running back into the water. With an ungraceful splash, it was gone.

Remus watched the kappa disappear fondly. Just four years ago, he never would have guessed that this was what he'd be researching now, but it had been surprisingly fulfilling. He thought of Fabian's exuberance and passion for the subject of magical creatures and smiled. If it hadn't been for that man, he wouldn't have this job. He wouldn't have a purpose that drove him to wake up every morning. He owed so much to the late wizard, and he'd never told him how grateful he was. He hoped that Fabian somehow knew.

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus looked up from his brooding to see a petite woman in pale pink robes staring apprehensively at him from the entrance. The door was cracked open ever-so-slightly. Her large round eyes peered in. It was Fabian's old secretary. Martha, was it?

He smiled tiredly. "Afternoon. Something I can help you with?" he asked kindly.

Martha - or was it Marta - smiled nervously. Had she always looked at him that way? Remus fought a grimace from his face - no, she hadn't.

"You're needed in Fabian's office," the older woman squeaked.

Remus sighed and nodded his head. The secretary fell away from the door and scampered away without another word. It swung shut quietly, and Remus knew somehow that he would be hearing another door shutting soon. He stood slowly and ran a tired hand through his hair before gathering up his files and making his way for the door. Before exiting, he turned and gave the kappa sanctuary one last look over. If he tried hard enough, he could still hear Fabian's trumpeting laughter.

* * *

><p>Rowan sat on the floor of Amrit's cold lab alone in the middle of the old runes Fabian had carved into the tile just three months ago. She gazed around listlessly at the ancient script she didn't understand, fingers tracing over them idly. She wanted to be working on something - anything - but each time she'd even moved to lift a vial or cauldron, her arms had gone numb.<p>

And so she'd resigned herself to the floor. It was the middle of the day. Amrit was teaching classes, and Lescos was at St. Mungo's. At this time, she would normally be working on the next improvement on her potion, but it seemed useless at this point. After all, there was no one there to help with the protection spells required each full moon. How would they even conduct their experiments at the next cycle?

Her face darkened further - how would they protect Isaac? Sure, the last full moon had been a success, but no one could guarantee that they would achieve the same results every time. And the only reason Isaac had been able to continue his life without word of his condition spreading was because of Fabian's help. There were hardly many wizards with the complex know-how who were willing to assist a werewolf every lunar cycle. Now that Fabian was gone, the success of Rowan's work was even more critical for her benefactor. And his well-being was critical for her as well - after all, she was only able to conduct her experiments because of his Ministry privileges and Amrit's academic resources. If word were to get out now and he lost his job as a result, how could they even go on?

"Rowan?"

Rowan's head jerked up to see Amrit standing in the doorway. The older witch was staring down at her with her full lips twisted with confusion. Her inky hair was pulled into a loose bun elegantly at the base of her neck. Rowan thought of the heavy bags beneath her eyes and her unkempt hair, feeling very shabby in comparison, especially in her disheveled state on the floor. She smiled sheepishly up at the researcher.

"I'm sorry. I just can't seem to find the energy to work lately," she said contritely, limply.

Amrit smiled sadly. "It's all right, dear. I know it must be hard. I can't imagine how devastated you must be," she said kindly. She placed her books on a nearby lab bench and then joined Rowan on the cold floor, much to her surprise. She knelt gracefully beside Rowan and took her left hand between hers, holding it tightly. The warmth was slightly comforting in its affirmation - they were both still there, despite Fabian's absence.

"You know things are going to be all right, don't you?" she asked quietly. Rowan stared down at her lap with her cheeks warm with mild shame. She felt like such a child. How could this illustrious woman - her supposed colleague - be so patient to humor her like this? She shouldn't be leaning on Amrit or Lescos when they were probably both questioning the status of their research as well. And yet, here she was, emotional and useless in front of her colleague again.

"I know," Rowan whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I can't seem to keep it together. I just can't stop thinking about him. And Isaac - how will he be able to continue with his position at the Ministry without Fabian?"

Amrit's mouth tightened sadly. "I don't know how to answer your questions. I'm sorry," she said sadly. "But Isaac will find a way. He's much more resourceful than you are giving him credit for." She smiled softly. "And even if he isn't able to stay at the Ministry, we're going to continue with this research. You're so close, after all."

Rowan squeezed Amrit's hand and shook her head. "_W__e're_ close," she said. "I would never have been able to make it this far without all of you. I haven't thanked you nearly enough for everything you've done - both you and Lescos. I just hope we can protect Isaac now, too."

"There is no need for that."

Amrit and Rowan looked up to see Isaac walking towards them. His pale eyes looked even more tired than usual. Rowan noted a couple more lines at the corners of his mouth, as if he'd been frowning heavily since she'd last seen him. She gazed up at him concernedly. As he reached them, Isaac's stoic face took on that quietly gentle smile - the one he'd given her after she'd found him with Alfred. Her chest ached slightly at the sight.

"I will be resigning from the Ministry this week," he said simply.

Rowan's throat tightened. "What?" she breathed. Heat rose to her face. "But why? No one could possibly know already! It's barely even been a week! We still have another two weeks before the next cy-"

Isaac raised a quiet hand to silence her. The words seemed to dry up in her throat. That steady smile remained, but the exhaustion in his face seemed to double.

"Word will come out soon. That Death Eater that was apprehended last week - Dolohov... he knows what I am. The upper offices at the Ministry know now as well. I told them that I will resign before word gets out so that they can avoid a scandal."

Rowan blanched. "But how?" she breathed. "How could he possibly know? No one knew!" she protested disbelievingly.

Isaac shrugged tiredly and then surprised her by lowering himself down to the floor as well. Her shock was furthered as he reached up and loosened the crisp pale tie that hung from his neck. He let out a soft breath and, with it, a bit of the constant composure in his face. He suddenly seemed much more human than she'd ever seen him. This must be the man that Alfred had come to know and love in their Hogwarts days. The distinguished lines carved into his pale skin were sharp. The translucent eyelashes that dusted his cheeks seemed to glow almost ethereally. She realized suddenly that he really _was_ beautiful.

"I do not know how he knows, but he has already told the M.L.E. Department. It is better for me to resign now while my reputation is intact. The Minister already knows my intention to put forth my two weeks' notice by Friday morning."

Rowan gawped dumbly. She scoured her mind for any way that the Death Eaters could know about Isaac. The only people who knew about his condition were their colleagues and a few members of the Order. But those members were-

There it was - that icy fear.

Only her mother, Alfred, the Prewetts, and the Marauders had known about Isaac's condition. Assuming that neither Amrit nor Lescos had leaked his secret - and why would they? - that narrowed down the identity of the Order's traitor to those closest to her. Her face seared with horror at the thought.

"Obviously, this means that I will no longer have access to the Ministry's resources very soon," Isaac continued, unaware of Rowan's inner turmoil. "I have already begun taking steps to ensure that we have as many supplies and test subjects as possible before I lose my access. I believe that we can begin producing our own lycanthropic mice, and I have enough connections within the werewolf community to find subjects..."

Isaac's words began to drown out, however, as Rowan's mind scoured through the implications of this discovery. Her mother and Alfred were obviously not the traitor - neither were even officially Order members and certainly had no access to mission operations. And although Alfred's relationship with Isaac was strained, he would never be so vindictive as to betray his secret. James and Lily had been out of commission and unaware of the mission's procedures, so it couldn't have been either of them. And besides, Lily was a Muggle-born - obviously neither of them had any moral leanings towards pureblood fanaticism. She nearly shook herself with shame as she realized she'd even considered the possibility of it being either of them - of course not! They were two of the kindest, purest of heart people she knew!

Mina organized the entire operation, so if it were her - Rowan nearly scoffed at the thought - she could have easily led all three teams into a clean ambush. And she was a Muggle-born anyway, so there was no chance the Death Eaters would have even tried to recruit her - they would have much rather killed her on the spot.

Remus - how could she even consider him? But no, she needed to remain objective and approach it logically, but it still seemed ludicrous. He was a werewolf himself. He would never even betray a fellow werewolf, let alone someone whose position at the Ministry was so critical in alleviating his own condition.

This left Sirius and Peter. She frowned. Both options were feasible, if she pushed aside her own biases. Both had had ample opportunity to perform an Imperius curse on Fabian - Peter had been on Fabian's team, and Sirius had been in the dungeon with them. Peter had more than enough time to get Fabian alone. Even after the protection team had split up for their respective posts, Peter could have cornered Fabian unaware. He fit the mold of the unlikely traitor so well - who would ever suspect little Peter Pettigrew of betraying his friends, after all?

And then there was Sirius. While she, Moody, and Gideon had been releasing the prisoners, he had been on guard. He could have easily caught Fabian by surprise when they weren't paying attention. It would be a much easier way of taking them out without revealing himself and much less dangerous for him than attacking all four of them directly. It would also serve to explain why Mina and Kingsley had been able to escape - Lord Voldemort might have let them get away or pretended that he was unaware of Remus' presence in the main hall to provide an excuse for them to escape. Even if Sirius had betrayed them, he wouldn't have wanted Mina to get hurt in the process.

Rowan's throat seared. But it still didn't make sense! If either of them were the traitor, they could have easily arranged for all three teams to be ambushed quickly and efficiently, but it had been done so messily. And they'd both gone out of their way to _save_ the remaining Order members. Sirius could have left Moody to die in the dungeon, but he'd hauled the bloody Auror all the way through the massive manor. If there was anyone a Death Eater would want to have killed in the Order, Moody would be high on that list.

And Peter had shown up just in time to save Rowan. She frowned again. She couldn't remember anything from the explosion in the dungeon to the moment she really came to outside of the manor. She obviously concussed her head during that time. Peter could have easily left her to die with the Prewetts. Really, he could have left them _all_ to die, but he'd come running through the manor and up the tower as soon as she'd sent out the warning through the masks. A traitor would have left them all to die.

But assuming that her logic was right in narrowing the traitor down to someone within their circle of friends, the mere idea of any of them betraying the Order was unlikely morally. If one of them was the traitor, there had to be a reason beyond belief in pureblood supremacy. Had someone been Imperiused? Blackmailed? But if that were the case, then it could really be _any _of them! She wanted to tear her hair out with desperate frustration.

"-at do you think?"

Rowan looked up to see Amrit and Isaac looking at her expectantly. She felt her face warm slightly with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry? I think I zoned out for a moment," she said contritely, trying to push the paranoia away momentarily.

Isaac eyed her warily with that glassy stare of his for a moment before continuing. "I was saying that I believe we should continue with this cycle next week as previously planned, though we will have to find a more primitive way of restraining me should the results differ from last month. The four of us should also sit down sometime in the next few days and set out a plan of needed resources and coming steps in the light of my resignation. If you are to publish within the year as we had originally planned, we are going to need to prepare for the coming months."

Rowan absorbed the information slowly. She thought of her impending paper and the daunting path ahead. It hardly seemed important in light of the Order's fraying edges, and yet it seemed to double the weight on her chest. She nodded in agreement but said nothing. She didn't trust her voice.

* * *

><p>When Rowan returned home, she found Remus already there waiting for her. As she opened the door, she frowned at the sight of his lean form sitting at her table, fingers tangled in his hair. Her stomach churned. There was no reason for him to be home this early.<p>

As he heard her set her things down on the table, he looked up, hands falling to the tabletop. He looked up at her with a steady gaze, mouth pulled in a taut line. The dread deepened.

"What's happened?" she asked quietly.

Remus' mouth twitched, the corners of his lips pinching upward slightly. It wasn't really a smile. She wasn't sure what to call it.

"They've chosen a new head for my department at work - Dempsey Greengrass."

Rowan grimaced. The Greengrass family was an old Pureblood family full of Slytherins. It was well known within the Order that most of its elder members were Death Eaters.

"It hasn't been announced officially yet, but he called me in to talk to me in private today," he continued. "Even used Fabian's office." His voice fizzled with bitterness. Rowan watched Remus carefully, afraid of how this story would continue.

"He knows what I am obviously - it's in my employee file. Fabian had kept it private, but Greengrass obviously has no reservations about letting everyone know," he said darkly. "He made it pretty clear that my 'illness' won't be tolerated in _his_ department."

Rowan's throat tightened. She gripped his hand tightly. "So... what now?" she whispered.

Remus made a small movement with his shoulders - almost a shrug. "He's letting me resign instead of being dismissed," he said darkly. He lips twitched upward for a moment, bitterly. "Pretty gracious of him, eh?"

Rowan felt a wave of emotion hit her as she gazed at Remus' bitter expression. He hadn't lifted his eyes to meet hers. She roved over his face, the taut line of his mouth. He was still the same - the same man as he'd been just a week ago when Fabian had still been alive. How could things be changing so quickly like this?

Anger erupted from her stomach.

"No."

Remus looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Rowan felt the anger surge up her throat and into her cheeks. There was so much of it - it seemed to pour into her arms, threatening to burst from her skin. She could barely contain it.

"No. No, this isn't fair," she choked out. She could barely speak above a whisper - afraid that if she did, the anger might overtake them both. But as Isaac's tired eyes and Fabian's cheeky grin came to mind, she couldn't hold it back. It seemed to grab hold of her voice and amplify it. "This isn't right! Why the _hell_ should you have to resign?"

Remus' mouth twitched with frustration. "Rowan, what else can I do? I can't keep my job, regardless of how I go, so shouldn't I resign now before I get sacked?"

The anger turned to rage. It seemed to take on a substance, a rigidity, seizing her arms like stiff branches.

"Exactly! You're going to lose your job no matter what you do, but just giving up like this makes it seem like what they're doing is okay! And it's not! _It's _not_ fucking okay!"_ She felt heat stinging at the back of her eyes and throat now. Isaac's resigned, tired face appeared in her mind's eye. How could these men - these _intelligent,_ _good_ men - be forced to submit to something so completely unjust? How could they think that they should accept it?_  
><em>

"None of this is right, and you shouldn't be forced to just sit back and take it! You need to stand up to them and show them that it's not right!" she shouted. Her body thrummed with electricity. She couldn't make sense of how to hold herself or even the volume of her own voice. Her face was contorting with anger uncontrollably. She hadn't felt so much fury in ages. "You're not putting _anyone_ in danger, and it's about time people fucking _educated_ themselves! You need to tell them!"

Remus' eyes flashed with anger. His fists jerked against the table, shaking it with the legs crying against the wooden floor. "You don't fucking get it, Rowan!" he barked back. Rowan flinched slightly at the harsh tone of his voice but held fast, chin still raised defiantly. "_You _don't get it! You think I _like_ this? You think I _want_ to roll over and take this? Of course not! I'd give _anything_ to show fucking Greengrass that I'm ten times as capable as he is, that I deserve to be there, but _I can't!"_

Rowan's chest seemed to jerk back in response. She could feel her heart pound in retaliation against his words. "Why the fuck can't you? Nothing is stopping you from fighting this!" she shouted back. "If you don't fight this - if you and Isaac and the rest of the werewolves don't protest how _unjust_ this all is - how can you _ever_ expect things to change? No one else will speak for you if you don't!" A few tears escaped. She wiped them away angrily, furious that they'd spilled at all. She faced off against Remus again, cheeks red and arms trembling.

"And what happens if I fight back?" Remus snarled back. "What then? Then I lose my job, and then _everyone_ knows what I am! I will never be able to get another job! I'll become a complete outcast! You don't fucking understand _anything_ about what it's like to be in my situation, so stop fucking preaching down to me like you know what's best!"

Rowan's stomach tightened at this. She felt a harsh pinch of insecurity, a whisper at the back of her head. But no, she wouldn't back down from this.

"You're right - I don't know what it's like," she admitted, "but I do know that if you don't stand up for yourself, this is just going to happen again and again to you and everyone like you, and nothing will ever change." Another couple of tears escaped. She shoved them away angrily. "Nothing is ever going to change."

The two stood in silence, squaring off against each other. Rowan couldn't bear to raise her eyes to his again. She could feel his gaze wander over her but couldn't meet it. _Nothing will ever change._ It echoed emptily down her ribs and into the pit of her stomach.

Time passed slowly, stickily. She could feel the minutes oozing slowly over them, filling the space between them.

"Nothing is ever going to change, huh?" Remus mumbled to himself. Rowan's eyes flickered up to see him staring hard at something on the ground, but she couldn't see it. His gaze looked to be piercing through the wooden slats of the floor. Hearing her words echoed back sent a tremor down her spine, emptying coldly into her stomach.

"Remus, I-"

Remus' head jerked stiffly in response. "No, I-" he retorted. His gaze still remained on that distant spot. He paused, as if second guessing himself. "I need to take a walk," he said quietly, an eerie sense of calm taking over his form.

And with that, before Rowan could protest, he made a beeline for the door. Not once did he look back up at her. She half-expected him to slam the door - perhaps she would have felt better if he had - but he opened it quietly and closed it behind him with a soft clicking whisper. Her flat was filled with a sticky silence, once again. It filled her lungs heavily.

* * *

><p>A piercing shriek shook the cold stone walls of a large hall. A round, small man writhed in agony in the middle of the floor. Around him stood the blank faces of silver masks and dark robes. Above him loomed the tall form of his angry master, eyes red and teeth bared with fury.<p>

"_Forgive me!"_ the small man sobbed. The dark wizard roared again with anger, another flash of red light bursting from his wand. The curse hit the sobbing man, yanking another choking scream from his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, mouth open and sputtering as his back craned and thrashed against the cold floor. A thin film of sweat coated his round face. His upper lip was cracked and painted with dried blood. One eye was swollen shut.

Finally, the thrashing stopped, and the dark wizard swept down beside the pathetic man on the ground, grabbing him by a fistful of his thinning hair. His long spindly fingers tangled and twisted in the downy strands. The man cried out in pain as his master jerked his face up towards his.

"Have I made myself clear yet, _Wormtail?" _he hissed. He spat the final name out, spraying the whimpering man in the face. _  
><em>

"_Yes!"_ he cried. "_Yes, my Lord._ I'm sorry, my Lord! Please! _Please!"_ His entire body trembled under the weight of his master's presence weighing down on him, shrinking away from him as best as he could. _  
><em>

Lord Voldemort snarled in disgust and threw Peter down to the floor. He flopped onto the stone, grunting in pain as his head hit the hard surface. He went blind for a moment as he tried to refocus his eyes. He sobbed quietly into his hands, face pressed into the floor. Why? _Why had he been so stupid?_

"Yes, _why indeed,_ Wormtail," the Dark Lord echoed, reading his thoughts. "I thought I'd made it clear that your person belongs to _me_ now, but it seems that you still need proper educating," he hissed. "Did you really think you could save your friends with that little act of yours or are you just stupid?"

Peter shook his head dumbly and continued to sob. He couldn't even remember anymore. He'd given incomplete information to the Dark Lord regarding the mission. Had he really thought that the Order could escape?

"Yes, it was very foolish," the Dark Lord agreed, again prying through his thoughts. "Incomplete information and incomplete logic. It's a wonder you were able to pass your classes at Hogwarts at all, though I must admit that I'm slightly impressed you were able to keep such details from me. That threadbare Occlumency training the Order gave you came in use after all." Peter nodded stupidly, rocking slowly against the floor. He was barely hearing his master's words anymore. He just wanted the pain to stop.

"But you won't do it again, will you, Wormtail?"

Peter shook his head quickly, eyes clenched shut. The darkness behind his eyes was soothing. He continued to rock, continued to cradle himself against the hard stone beneath him.

"Say it."

Peter whimpered, "I won't do it again, my Lord." His tears leaked and trailed down over his nose, where they pooled against his cheek hotly.

"_Again,"_ commanded the Dark Lord.

"I won't do it again, my Lord," Peter said, a bit louder this time.

"No, you won't," Lord Voldemort agreed quietly. "You're lucky you're still of use to me, boy - so _very lucky."_ He glared haughtily down at the round man for a moment, mind prying through the recesses of his psyche. Peter cried out as his mental walls were torn down forcibly. Dark tendrils seemed to grip his most inner thoughts, and with them, his throat. The squeezed and tore apart the deepest recesses of his psyche.

When he was satisfied, Lord Voldemort nodded to himself. "You will get me that child, Wormtail. I will not accept failure this time. Do you understand?" he asked quietly.

Peter's mind was a blank slate. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing but an endless expanse of white. The soreness of his body seemed to only echo the stripped state of his mind. His fingers reached out twitchingly. They slid into the now cold pool of tears that had gathered at his cheek.

"Yes, my Lord," Peter whispered. "Yes, my Lord."


	60. Of Survivor's Melancholy

**A/N:** AH, WHAT AMAZING REVIEWS. I AM SO HAPPY.

**Kah Aluada:** I am SO happy to hear from you again, and so soon! I can't believe you've gotten so far in this story after finishing the first not that long ago. Thank you so, so very much for the kind words. I can't tell you how excited I was to see your review pop up. I understand your insecurities about writing in another language [I feel the same], but it makes it even more meaningful for me that you do because of the effort you've put in. And despite whatever insecurities you have, it was really beautifully written. Seriously - I was very moved and humbled that anyone could feel so strongly about my writing. I really can't properly express how gratifying it is to hear that you've become so invested in the characters and their growth. So thank you again and again for reading and going on this adventure with me! I hope you stay with me as we move on!

Also, I definitely have a soft spot for Barty too and had considered making his relationship with Rowan a little, uh, more adult haha. That damn David Tennant's Doctor is just too charismatic for his own good.

**BeastlyBeauty:** Holy crap, I can't thank you enough! I'm incredibly, ridiculously honored to be your first review, and I'm so glad that you've enjoyed the story this far. I'd considered writing some heavier scenes with Barty, but I could never find the right timing :/ Even so, I'm happy you like Rowan and my interpretation of the canon characters so much. I'm also SUPER PSYCHED that you gave Rowan x Remus ship names! I practically squealed when I read that haha. It's like they're a real thing and not some figment of my imagination. I'm sorry to say that there probably won't be any babies in the near future, but if/when there are, there most certainly will be a girl. It seems appropriate for Remus somehow, no?

Also, I love that song! It's in the trailer for the new Assassin's Creed, which is one of my favorite video games haha. I think it's awesome that you're associating songs with the story. I don't know if I can think of one that encapsulates the entire story off the top of my head, but I certainly relate specific music to individuals chapters or relationships.

**missalex3**03**0:****** Thank you so much! I know you know how much I love writing those chapters, so I'm really glad you're still enjoying them! And yeah, I'm really excited about Sirius and Peter's roles in the upcoming chapters and just about everything finally wrapping up with them in general. I hope work hasn't been too crazy recently! ^^

**SMGF1:** Aww I just feel bad for Peter nowadays, but yeah, he's pretty pathetic. As for Remus and Rowan, I'll leave up to you to interpret haha. It'll become pretty clear soon anyway. Thanks for the great review, as always!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>**0: Of Survivor's Melancholy**

Rowan sat alone in the small London cafe that she frequented with Mina. It was a Muggle institution, but the two women appreciated it for its privacy. The Wizarding community was simply too small. One was bound to run into a familiar face while out in Diagon Alley or the like, so sometimes it was simply good for the spirit to just sink one's self into the depths of the Muggle world. This cafe, in particular, was off the beaten trail on a tiny street uninhabited by traffic, only familiar to the natives. Their tea wasn't the best, but it was good enough, and they always had chocolate croissants.

Two weeks had passed now since the mission at Dolohov Manor, and the chill of September was beginning to really set in. As she and her colleagues had discussed, they had gone ahead with their usual monthly experiment after procuring a brutal, medieval looking cage for Isaac. Rowan despised the idea of placing her benefactor in such a primitive device, but he had insisted that it was no bother to him. Fortunately, the experiment had gone according to plan without any real need for the cage, and Isaac had simply been able to sleep through the night. Rowan allowed herself to feel a bit of relief for the first time since losing Fabian. Perhaps they could really finish this without him.

Rowan hadn't seen Mina or Sirius since that chaotic Order meeting post-mission. While she had spent some time at the Potters' flat with James, Lily, and Harry since then, it seemed that the other couple was avoiding nearly everyone. The three had been hurt - Lily especially - but Rowan tried to rationalize that this was a confusing time for all of them, and they all had different methods of mourning. A quiet voice at the back of her head whispered that this wasn't how Sirius often coped - she knew James was thinking the same - but she pushed it away. Thinking like that wouldn't do her any good.

So swallowing her pride, Rowan had reached out to the two of them, inviting them out for tea casually. She'd half-expected to not receive any answer at all, so she'd been particularly pleased when Mina had responded with a yes - they should meet up in their usual place on Saturday.

Rowan sat nervously in her chair, hands fiddling with her teacup. She hadn't felt this anxious about being around Mina since they were perhaps 12 during her awkward pubescent years. She focused all of her energy on her cup, stirring it with a slow, controlled finger over the golden liquid. She tried to convince herself that if she concentrated on this menial task, she could keep her eyes off of the door.

"Having fun there?"

Rowan squeaked, hand jerking. With it, her tea splashed clumsily into the saucer. Rowan sputtered and steadied the cup before glancing up to see Mina looking down at her half-exasperated, half-amused. The small expression was so familiar. Rowan let out a large sigh of relief. She'd never been so happy to see Mina look at her that way.

"Sorry," she choked out. She cleared her throat, pushing down the sudden surge of emotion. It wouldn't do to get flustered right now.

Mina chuckled softly as she sat down, shrugging off her jacket. As she settled in the chair across from her, Rowan noted that Sirius was absent. She also noted the heavy circles beneath the brunette's eyes. The recent events had obviously not just been weighing heavily on her.

"Where's Sirius?" Rowan asked.

Mina's mouth twitched into that hard line that was becoming more and more familiar, and Rowan knew that Sirius was still bitter about what had transpired at Dolohov Manor. Rowan nodded in understanding before Mina even spoke.

"I'm sure you can guess," Mina answered tiredly. She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, seemingly out of habit. She shifted awkwardly for a moment before continuing. "He's still not convinced about... you know."

Rowan nodded, mouth taut in a grimace. She assessed her friend again.

"How are things?" she asked quietly, eyes melting with concern as she took in the dullness of Mina's hair, the lack of spark in her usually sharp features.

Mina let out a quiet breath, slowly. Rowan could see her fighting the instinct to sigh, as if it weren't appropriate or deserved. "To be expected," she said simply. She assessed her tea - Rowan had ordered it for her before she'd arrived. Holding the cup delicately, her fingers twitched slightly over the rim. "Busy at the office."

Rowan nodded. "I'm sure," she said sympathetically. "But how are things with _you_?"

Mina's mouth twitched upward into a sort of sheepish smile. "Tired," she mumbled. She seemed to turn a thought over in her head. "Very tired," she admitted. Her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, as if the air in her chest had released with the quiet admission. "I don't know. Floundering, I guess."

Rowan nodded again. "You want to talk about it?" she asked carefully. Mina had never been the most vocal about her emotions, but it was worth a shot, right? If her friend was to ever need a confidant, now was probably the time.

Mina stared dully into her cup, fingers clutching it hard. Rowan could nearly see them trembling with strain. Then her lip went, and with it - Rowan nearly gaped - her resolve. She could nearly see her barriers visibly coming down.

"I'm a right mess, Rowan," she whispered. "Moody's still in hospital, and the department is in disarray. Kingsley is doing his best to lead us - and he's doing well - but I just can't seem to hold it together. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like everything I do goes wrong. I even burned _tea_ yesterday. How does anyone burn _tea?"_

Rowan watched her friend dissolve quietly in front of her. Her eyes glistened, but the tears didn't fall. Even at her lowest, Rowan was amazed at how composed Mina remained. She wasn't sure if she should praise her or slap her for being so hardheaded.

"I just don't know what to do," she continued quietly. Her lip trembled erratically suddenly, as a thought bubbled in her mind. Rowan could see her eyes crinkle with frustration as it floated around her mind. Finally, she seemed determined to voice it, perhaps out of sheer desperation to see it released. "It's all my fault."

Rowan blinked. "What is?"

Mina's lips trembled again, eyebrows furrowing. "All of it - the mission, the Prewetts, Moody... If I had been more prepared, if I'd foreseen all of this-" She stopped, choking slightly on her tears, which had finally spilled. She wiped them away furiously and stared back down into her tea, mouth twisting angrily.

Rowan gaped dumbly at Mina. "You can't be serious," she breathed. "Mina, there's no way you could have known this would happen. You did everything you could've done to prepare us for this mission. There's no way you could've foreseen this. How could you?"

Mina's mouth twisted even more. Her eyes clenched shut, as if trying to keep Rowan's reasoning out. "I know," she choked. Her head bowed with shame. "I know, but... Why? Why did this have to happen?" she whispered. "My first command, and it all went to shit. And now Molly and Arthur... and Moody... his leg - it's completely gone. I... I can't even face him."

Rowan's stomach churned. Rowan had never been good with tears, but seeing Mina - cool, composed Mina - so broken was nauseating. It seemed inherently wrong. But she thought of Moody and realized that Mina's relationship with the old Auror was much like hers and Belby's. Her throat tightened as her late master came to mind. If Belby had been injured during an experiment seemingly because of her decisions, she would have been in the same state. She'd been a wreck when he'd died - hadn't that also been indirectly because of her too? She pushed the thought away quickly. This wasn't about her.

"I know that telling you this won't help much, but I can promise you that this wasn't your fault," she whispered. She wanted to reach out to her but was scared the brunette might shatter if she did. "And I can promise that Moody doesn't think so either. Whatever happened - it's no one's fault but whoever betrayed us," she said bitterly. She bristled at the thought. "You did everything you were supposed to do. No one blames you, so you shouldn't either."

Mina's head remained bowed, her hair swaying lightly. Rowan looked down at her own cup for propriety's sake. It wasn't right to keep staring at her when she needed a private moment. She stole a quick glance around them and was silently grateful that they were the only patrons present. The girl at the counter was reading a Muggle magazine, apparently bored and unaware of their private exchange.

"Yeah."

Rowan looked back carefully to see Mina's head raised, eyes staring into her cup again. Her eyes were red, but they were dry. Her gaze was unfocused, tired, but the strain in her neck and shoulders was a little less.

"Yeah," she echoed quietly. She sighed quietly, closing her eyes once again. When they opened, they refocused and then looked up, meeting Rowan's gaze. Her lips twitched upward into a quiet smile. Rowan smiled back, and they shared a quiet moment. Rowan took a sip of her tea before sputtering. Mina raised an eyebrow. Rowan smiled sheepishly.

"It's cold," she mumbled. Mina let out a quiet laugh, and Rowan savored the sound. Mina took a sip of her own and winced.

"Freezing," she agreed. Rowan glanced over to the teenager at the counter - she was still distracted by her magazine - and then pulled out her wand with a mischievous grin.

"_Calorus_," she whispered, pointing at their cups. Steam began to rise from the tea. Mina took hold of hers, picking the cup up between praying palms. She took a sip and grinned broadly.

"Much better," she said. Rowan grinned back. They were both far from okay - they'd probably be that way for a while - but at least they could have this moment together. She was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the reheated tea.

"So how are _you _doing?" Mina asked.

Rowan's smile faltered. She looked down at the cup between her hands for a moment. Mina had just confided her worries to her - shouldn't she do the same?

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. Traces of her smile remained on her lips as she gazed down her cup. "I'm okay, I guess. I'm better. Work is going well."

Mina eyed her warily. "But...?" she continued. Rowan's lips quirked upward again in confirmation. "Remus?" she asked carefully.

Rowan's gaze darkened momentarily, but enough for Mina to catch. Her expression darkened as well.

"What did that prat do now?" she practically growled.

Rowan shrugged, suddenly very tired. "Nothing. Maybe it's my fault. I'm not sure," she said. "I haven't seen him in a week, to be honest."

Mina's eyebrows furrowed. "What?" she asked incredulously.

Rowan shrugged again. "I haven't seen him in a week," she repeated. "We rowed." Mina stared hard at her, indicating that she should continue. Rowan nearly sighed.

"There's a new head for his department at the I.C.E. now that Fabian's gone," she explained quietly. "Dempsey Greengrass."

Mina's face melted into a scowl at the mere name. Rowan nodded, grimacing.

"Yeah," she continued. "Well, he obviously knows what Remus is now. He gave him the option to resign instead of getting sacked - I guess he doesn't want to cause a scandal right after taking over the department. I-" She stopped and frowned. "I got angry," she said simply.

Mina's eyebrows furrowed again angrily. "Well, yes," she retorted plainly, "as you should be."

Rowan sighed. "That's what I said, but he... I don't know... He just kind of gave up, like he didn't see the point in fighting it. He kind of just walked out. I haven't seen him since," she explained dumbly.

Mina stared hard at her, as if sorting the words out in her head like a puzzle. "And that's it?" she finally asked. Rowan shrugged again. Mina's mouth tightened. "He just walked out." She gawped at Rowan, who couldn't meet her gaze. She felt a strange wave of shame wash over her, though she didn't know why.

"Have you tried to talk to him?"

Rowan shook her head. "No," she muttered. "He obviously doesn't want to talk to me. If he did, he'd seek me out - not like he doesn't have my key or anything."

Mina's mouth twisted angrily. Rowan could see the fire in her eyes again, though she couldn't be glad for it in this case. She could see her fighting the anger down.

"It's okay," Rowan said appeasingly. She smiled softly. "He needs some time to sort this out. He'll come find me when he's ready."

Mina's nostrils flared indignantly, but she swallowed her protests, staring huffily into her cup. Rowan smiled fondly at her - though her anger was often too quick, Rowan could always count on her to voice the anger and resentment she couldn't.

"You should go see James and Lily," she chided gently.

Mina's grimaced guiltily. "I know," she admitted. "It's just... difficult, you know? I just don't know who to trust anymore."

Rowan nodded. "Yeah, but we know for sure it wasn't them. And they understand - you don't need to give them any explanations. I'm sure they'd just be pleased to see you. Sirius, too."

Mina stared into her cup before nodding slowly. Her expression softened as she thought of the good, kind Potters. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I'll go see them this weekend." She looked up at Rowan stiffly. "Come with me?" she asked tinily.

Rowan grinned. "Pussy," she teased. Mina glared.

"Bitch."

* * *

><p>Remus sat in the Potters' kitchen with Lily. James was at work, and though Lily had been easing back into her job at St. Mungo's, Remus had caught her on her day off. He wasn't sure why he'd come - he hadn't even told James - but there was something comforting about the redhead's presence. He nearly smiled - something <em>motherly.<em>

Harry was in his cradle sleeping, and Lily looked to be savoring the momentary reprieve. The two sat quietly, sipping their tea and enjoying the silence.

"So what's happened?" Lily finally asked.

Remus looked up from his cup with some confusion to see Lily gazing steadily at him. He frowned, but before he could say anything, she interrupted.

"Don't tell me nothing because I know it's not nothing. You only have that expression when something is wrong," she said. Her gaze softened slightly. "Did something happen with Winnie?"

Remus grimaced and shook his head. "No," he said. Then he thought it over for a moment. "Yes. I don't know. Sort of."

Lily frowned, and Remus sighed. How was it that this woman always pulled his problems out so thoroughly?

"I-" he started. Shame washed over him. He hadn't admitted it out loud since he and Rowan had fought. He felt even more shame as he thought of his girlfriend. It had been over a week since he'd walked out of her flat. He suddenly missed her terribly. "I lost my job," he said quietly. His ears burned.

Lily's face contorted with shock. "What?" she breathed. "What happened? How?" she followed up quickly.

Remus shook his head sadly. "There's a new head to replace Fabian - Dempsey Greengrass."

Lily's face took on a series of emotions - confusion, then understanding, and finally anger. Her eyes flashed indignantly. "Did he threaten you?" she hissed.

Remus shook his head. "No. Sort of," he answered. "He gave me the option to resign, which I've already done. I have another week there before I'm out of a job."

Lily's entire body seemed to tremble. "I- you-" she sputtered. Her anger seemed to grab hold of her tongue, rendering her unable to speak properly. Her face burned as red as her hair. Remus grimaced.

"He can't do that!" she finally roared. Her fist pounded the table, rattling the teacups. Remus grabbed his quickly to settle it, but Lily hardly noticed. "He can't! There has to be some kind of law against this! It's pure bigotry!"

Remus' grimace deepened. "There isn't. I'd know," he said bitterly. "Besides, it's already done. I've already sorted out my research for my replacement. The next week is really just a formality at this point."

But Lily continued to seethe. She bristled visibly, glaring into her cup. Remus watched her warily. She was more physically angry than Rowan had been, but it was still nothing compared to the dark-haired girl's outrage. He almost winced. She was probably deeply hurt. After all, he'd walked out on her again after promising that he'd never repeat his past mistakes.

But really, was he the only one who wasn't angry? Should he be angry? Yes, obviously he should, but every time he thought of it, he just felt tired. He was so tired. He was tired of living through his calendar, of ugly scars, of lying to himself and the people around him. Nothing during his 22 years on this earth had changed for people with his affliction. Sure, Rowan was close to finding a treatment, but it was no cure, and it was no change in legislation. Even if she did publish her treatment, would it change the way his people were treated?

"Rowan got angry too, didn't she?" Lily asked knowingly.

Remus looked up to see her gazing at him sadly now. His mouth tightened. He nodded. Lily stared hard at him.

"And?"

Remus blinked. "And what?"

Lily scowled. "And what did you do?"

Remus shrank back into his chair. "I walked out," he mumbled ashamedly.

Lily groaned. "You're a right idiot sometimes - did you know?"

"I know," Remus said quietly. "I just... I don't know what to say to her now. I don't know how to..." He trailed off and stared listlessly up at the ceiling, arms hanging limply at his sides. His mouth twisted sadly. Lily's gaze softened.

"I don't know what to tell you, but you should talk to her, you know?" she chided gently. "I realize that there's much more to what you're going through than any of us can understand, but I think if anyone can come close, it's her."

Remus shook his head sadly. "I know all of that," he said quietly, "but this is exactly why I left her to begin with. I've lost my job. Who knows when I'll find another? How can I expect her to support me while I'm unemployed? She's already got enough to worry about, and it's not like she has an income right now either. Just because she _can_ support the both of us doesn't mean that she should. How can I ask her to do all of that?" His shoulders slumped despairingly. "There's no way I can-" he trailed.

There it was. There was no way he could ask her to marry him now.

Lily gazed at him sadly, knowingly. Remus wanted to bury his face with shame. He knew she could see it all over his expression.

"Remus, now isn't the time for pride," she said quietly. "No matter how cruel and unfair it all is, you're going to encounter prejudice like this again and again. If Rowan is willing to face it with you - to fight it with you - shouldn't you accept it?"

"I-" he started. He didn't know how to answer. "I don't know."

He stared down into his tea. It was a golden amber, like the color of Rowan's eyes. He gazed despairingly into it.

This life of shutting doors and frightened faces - shouldn't he accept it?

Should Rowan?

He shook himself and looked up at the woman across the table. The green of her eyes seemed a little less vivid than usual. There were some new lines at the corner of her mouth. He frowned.

"You haven't been sleeping," he noted.

Lily shot him a look and grimaced. "That obvious, huh?" she said sheepishly. She sighed, leaning onto her elbows on the table. Her hair had been tied back, seemingly out of fatigue rather than choice. He noted that her jumper hung on her frame a little more loosely than usual. The frown deepened.

"Did something happen?" he asked concernedly.

Lily smiled tiredly. "Hmm... I don't know if I'd say that something happened. Maybe more like something _might_ happen. I don't know," she said cryptically. "It's nothing to worry yourself over now though. When we're ready to tell you, we will."

This didn't assuage Remus' concerns, but before he could protest, a soft cry was heard from down the hall. Lily stood slowly with a sigh.

"Looks like grown-up time is over, huh?" she joked tiredly. "I'll be back in a minute. He probably just needs a change." And with that, she pattered out of the kitchen to take care of Harry, leaving Remus with perhaps more questions than he had had answered.


	61. Of Fighting Together

**A/N: **Just penned out the first draft of the big climax. It's amazing how much of an adrenaline rush one can have from just writing. I can't wait for all of you to read it!

**HOLY CRAP SO MANY REVIEWS! **Thank you so much to **wishfulthinker93, Sweetbutteri, MaeveDevine, sarahmichellgellarfan1, DontTellMeImWrongBitch, missalex3030, **and** BeastlyBeauty! **I really wanna respond to all of them individually, but we have a deadline Monday to meet at work, so I'm in a hurry to get back to that T_T But I didn't wanna leave you guys hanging all weekend with no update, so I'll have to write back next time! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 61: Of Fighting [Together]<strong>

It was uncomfortably tense.

Rowan, Mina, and Sirius sat in the Potters' living room together, all seated on the long couch. Mina sat in the middle, spine straight and alert. Sirius sat back sinking into the couch, face turned away from Rowan, mouth twisted and eyes set angrily on the wall. Rowan's eyes darted between her companions to her left and baby Harry in her arms. The infant was looking up at her calmly with a pleasant smile on his mouth. Rowan wanted to smile back, but she could barely muster a twitch of the lips.

Sirius was still obviously bristling about the mission at Dolohov Manor. Rowan was reminded of Remus' dark moments three years ago - he had reacted the same way when Isaiah Jones had betrayed them and Rowan had been caught in the line of fire. Mina hadn't been hurt this time, but it had been her mission, her personal endeavor, and Sirius obviously saw the traitor as not only a criminal, but also as a personal enemy for betraying the most important woman in his life.

But still, for him to suspect _her._.. She wasn't sure how to react to it. She knew it wasn't personal - he suspected nearly everyone who had taken part in the mission at this point - but it still hurt deeply.

It probably wouldn't have stung as much if Remus had been around. Two weeks now - she hadn't seen him in two weeks. She wasn't sure if she should be hurt or angry, but she couldn't seem to muster the anger, even when she tried. Each time she considered what had happened, she just felt a wave of grief. She was grateful that at least her work had been progressing - even hindered now - for if it hadn't, she would be beside herself.

If Remus had submitted his two weeks' notice after their argument, then he would have finished his last day of work yesterday, she realized with a grimace. Where was he now? A part of her told her that she should go look for him, but really, if he hadn't sought her out yet, didn't that mean he didn't want to see her? That seemingly forgotten fear, that gnawing insecurity, had resurfaced over the past two weeks. Once again, he'd walked away, and though she kept reassuring herself in her private moments that he'd return - after all, he had _promised_ - that ugly creature called fear kept clawing its way from the pit of her stomach and up her esophagus.

She was pulled from her dark musings when the doorbell rang. Harry cooed in response, and Rowan looked up, confused. Lily had said that it was just going to be the three of them joining her and James that evening. Who else could be there? She heard James answer the door, followed by a few exchanges of soft murmurs, but she couldn't identify the voices. A figure stepped into the hall, followed by another, and another, and anoth-

_Clunk._

Rowan frowned. What was that?

The clunking continued. There was a step, then a clunk, then another step. It continued in this bizarre rhythm until the group reached the living room, and Rowan's frown disappeared.

It was Albus Dumbledore, Peter, Remus, and-_  
><em>

"Moody!"

Mina had leapt to her feet and rushed the old Auror, but just as she'd approached him, her body jerked back, suddenly aware of her lack of restraint. Her face twisted awkwardly, body jerking stiffly as she tried to sort out her movements. Finally, Moody grinned and slapped her on the shoulder in his rough way.

"It's good to see you, girl," he growled fondly. Mina tried desperately to fight the excited smile but failed. She blushed happily at her mentor's happy words. Rowan grinned at the strange exchange.

But then she frowned again. The source of the bizarre noise suddenly become very apparent as she looked down: where his right leg had once been was now fixed a wooden peg.

"What the hell is _that_, old man?" Sirius asked incredulously, voicing Rowan's question.

Moody grinned lopsidedly and glanced down at his new appendage. He waved it around in a circle comically.

"You like it? New addition. I think it adds a little something, don't you think?" he asked cheekily.

Rowan gaped openly. "But... wood? W-why wouldn't you get something a little more... sophisticated?" she argued weakly. She took another careful look. "It's not even finished wood! Look! You're shedding splinters!"

Moody just waved her comments away like a group of annoying gnats. "I don't need something so fancy as all that. This suits me just fine," he said proudly. Rowan wasn't sure if she should feel awed or frustrated by the man's lack of concern.

But then why was he here? She looked to the other three men. Peter and Remus were one thing - she had half-expected Lily and James to pull something like this - but Dumbledore? Her stomach lurched. She couldn't think of any reason for the great wizard to be here besides Order business. And if he had come personally, then it must be serious. Harry gurgled a bit, and Rowan bounced him absentmindedly, still frowning at the Headmaster's presence.

And Remus - of course he was there. She looked away quickly from Dumbledore and back down to Harry, attempting desperately to distract herself from Remus. She could feel his eyes on her, but she wasn't sure if she trusted herself to look back. She wasn't even sure how she felt seeing him there. Despite the feelings of aimlessness from the past two weeks, she suddenly felt a bout of anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, and she knew that she'd cause a scene if she tried to speak to him now. Harry reached up and patted Rowan's nose almost comfortingly with his tiny hand. She smiled softly as Lily swept him up into her arms. She watched her collapse into an old recliner with her son fondly.

"Well, it seems that we're all here," Dumbledore said good-naturedly. "Why don't we sit and have a chat?" He flicked his wand, and another few chairs appeared, landing softly for him, Remus, and Peter. Lily sat in the recliner with James on the arm. Moody sank back into another cushioned chair, rubbing the area where his new leg had been attached. He was clearly not accustomed to it yet, despite his act of bravado.

"You're all probably wondering why we've gathered here together," Dumbledore began knowingly. He sat up straight and turned to James and Lily.

The three Potters were all seated together in the large recliner. Lily held Harry securely with James' arm wrapped around her shoulders. Rowan took a second to admire how perfect they looked together. Was there a more beautiful looking family than that?

James and Lily shared a look. Their mouths were tight, expressions suddenly heavy. Lily turned back to look at her precious son, and James turned to address their friends.

"We're sorry to have thrown this on all of you so suddenly. It's not ideal, but we really needed to see all of you quickly," he said. He stole a quick glance at Lily, hand squeezing her shoulder subtly. They shared a furrowed look, and Rowan's stomach churned. Mina's words from July echoed faintly from deep in her gut.

"Dumbledore has advised us to go into hiding. We'll be leaving next week," he announced solemnly.

"What? But that's so soon!" Sirius blurted. Rowan turned to see the black-haired man's eyes wide, chest thrust forward. His face was pale and - Rowan noted with horror - _fear_ was written across his face.

James nodded. "We would have left sooner, but we needed to sort things out on our end, and it's been hard to get things figured out with Harry," he said, glancing to his son. Lily unconsciously held him to her chest tighter. "Dumbledore warned us a few months ago, so really, this is as late as we were able to push it. We really can't afford to stay any longer."

Sirius' hands trembled, fingers clenching tightly into fists. His entire body seemed to shake with anger, but he looked away, eyes fixed on a distant point on the wall. It looked as if he were trying to force all of his rage into that one spot.

"Why are we here then?"

Everyone turned to see Remus leaning forward in his seat, hands clasped tightly in front of him. His voice was calm, but Rowan could see the strain twitching in his jaw. His foot was jerking anxiously against the floor.

"I didn't mean that to be rude. It just seems like you need us here for a specific reason. Wouldn't it be safer if no one knew where you were, even us?" he clarified quickly. Always the voice of reason, Rowan thought.

Dumbledore spoke up this time: "I asked them to invite you here." He looked around at all of them seriously. "You all are James and Lily's closest friends and very capable witches and wizards. If anyone is to know their place of hiding, it seems obvious that it should be one of you."

"You're going to perform a Fidelius Charm then?" Remus asked seriously.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, that's exactly right," he said. "This means that we will need one of you to act as Secret Keeper."

Silence washed over the room. _Secret Keeper_ - Rowan's insides turned acidly. Was Lord Voldemort seriously so bent on finding the Potters that they needed such a powerful protective spell? And to act as Secret Keeper - this person would have to be prepared to undergo the worst torture at any moment, potentially.

"I don't understand. What does this all mean?" Peter squeaked weakly.

"A Fidelius Charm is a powerful, ancient protective spell," Remus explained patiently. "It must be performed by two very skilled wizards - I'm assuming Professor Dumbledore and Moody will be doing this." Dumbledore nodded and waited for Remus to continue. "The targets of the the charm essentially give their location or 'Secret' to an individual called the Secret Keeper, which is stored within his or her body. It can only be given up voluntarily to another party. As long as the Secret Keeper keeps the Secret to himself, the targets are basically invisible to their pursuers, and if the Secret Keeper dies, then the Secret safely dies with them."

Peter's face paled. "So that means-"

"It means that they're asking one of us to put our lives on the line," Sirius said darkly.

"Sirius!" Mina barked. Her eyes flared angrily, but he continued to glare sullenly at that invisible point on the wall.

"No, it's okay, Mina. He's right," James said softly. He then turned to the rest of the group. "I know this is a lot to ask, and if no one wishes to take this on, we completely understand. We really do. And Dumbledore has said that he would be willing to act as Secret Keeper provided that we find someone who can perform the spell in his place. It's just that, well, you're our very best friends, and if we're going to trust anyone with this, it'd be you."

It hurt. Rowan's chest, her stomach, her eyes - they all ached desperately. She clenched her hands unconsciously. Her knuckles creaked and burned. As she looked over James - her oldest, dearest friend - she was filled with the deepest, most paralyzing fear. She could barely breathe. Her eyes then darted to Lily and Harry. Oh, _Harry._ Her lips began to tremble. Before she could stop herself, her words were leaving her throat: "I'll-"

"I'll do it."

Everyone turned. Sirius' gaze was still on that high point on the wall, but there was no longer any anger there. His expression was soft, nearly blank. Rowan could imagine herself molding his features between her fingers like clay. Finally, he turned to face James and Lily. A small smile danced on his lips.

"Let me do it, Prongs," he said quietly, beseechingly. "Please."

Rowan felt something wet fall into her lap and realized dumbly that she was crying. Her head dropped with embarrassment as she tried to hide her tears from her friends, wiping them away quickly, before looking back up. James had clapped a hand to Sirius' shoulder, eyes burning with gratitude. His mouth twisted with the words he wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to find his voice. Lily was beaming, eyelashes wet with unshed tears. She sniffled a bit, and James turned to smile brightly at her. She smiled wetly at the two men.

"So it's settled then," Dumbledore said quietly. He smiled at the three before turning to the rest. "It goes without saying that you should all spend as much time as you can with each other before the end of next week," he said softly. "One cannot say for sure when you will be able to gather together like this again." His blue eyes crinkled sadly, but then he and Moody stood.

"We will leave you to talk amongst yourselves. I'm sure there is much you need to discuss. I will contact you three with details as the end of the week approaches," he said. He smiled softly at the young adults, all still in a dazed stupor. "You are very lucky to have each other. Make sure to cherish this time." And with that, he and the old Auror left, leaving the Marauders and company in a heavy silence.

Rowan turned and looked back at James and Lily. They were both staring down at Harry, who had fallen asleep during their meeting. His mouth was slightly agape, one hand limp on his chest, the other splayed across his cheek. Rowan was filled with a deep sense of loneliness. When would she see Harry like this again?

"So," James said, clearing his throat, "what do you all plan on doing while we're away?"

They all stared dumbly at him, even Lily. He grinned awkwardly at them, pushing his hair messily.

But then Sirius grinned back. "Turn your flat into a dueling practice space," he jeered. "My aim's been off. I think I'll use those rubbish Wasps posters for target practice. What do you think?"

James' face blanched. "You monster!" he gasped. He then leapt to his feet and ran for his study where his Wimbourne Wasps paraphernalia was. Sirius jumped up and stampeded after him, a series of crashes and squeals following them from the room. The rest of the group gaped blankly after them.

But then a giggle was heard. Rowan turned and saw Mina, of all people, giggling quietly to herself. It wasn't an amused sound, Rowan noted. She realized that it was a strange hysterical burst of relief from her stomach. The giggle bubbled and frothed until one burst from her lips. She slapped a hand to her mouth, face red, as if she had burped instead, but it escaped anyway. Rowan felt her own relief start to force its way up her throat until the two young women were in a fit of giggles on the couch. Lily, Peter, and Remus exchanged incredulous looks before shaking their heads, smiling softly at their friends' ridiculous antics.

Rowan still felt that terrible sense of premonition in her gut, but her heart felt a little lighter. As James and Sirius came limping back into the room nursing new bruises, she looked around at her friends. Dark, dreadful things lurked in the distance, but at least some things would never change, and for that, she was very grateful.

* * *

><p>It was late - Harry had been put to bed several hours ago - but the Potters' friends all remained in their flat, talking quietly into the night. They were all exhausted, many red-eyed from crying, but no one wanted to leave. They still had a week before Lily and James went into hiding, but it seemed critical that they squeeze as much time in together as possible.<p>

Lily had disappeared into the kitchen, and Remus had followed her quietly, hands full of dishes. Rowan had made a point to avoid his gaze throughout the evening but had been sure to remain aware of his placement in the room, so to not accidentally sit across or next to him. The anger was still quietly frothing in her stomach, but she wanted this night to be as happy as possible. She wanted to make as many positive memories with her best friends before they left.

She looked around and saw that James had also disappeared. Mina, Peter, and Sirius were talking quietly in the corner over tea, and Rowan excused herself to go look for her old friend. She found him in Harry's room, looking over his son's cradle, hand gliding gently over the boy's head. Rowan approached the cradle softly to stand next to James. Harry's tiny form glowed in the dim yellow light of his room. His mouth was twisted somewhat, eyebrows furrowed slightly in his sleep.

"You know, I sometimes just stand here when he's like this and wonder what he's dreaming about," James said quietly. He brushed a thumb over his son's cheek. A gentle smile graced the man's lips. "I mean, it's not like he's got a lot of life experience or worries to fill his dreams, so I have to wonder - what do babies dream about?"

Rowan smiled softly. "I imagine he dreams about you," she whispered. She looked over the infant's still-soft features. "He looks more and more like you everyday," she marveled.

James' smile broadened a bit at this. "I kind of don't want him to. I know Lil is ready for him to mature a little - he's a lot of work as he is now - but I don't really want him to change. I want him to stay like this forever," he said.

"I'm sure he'll always be like this in one way or another - to you, at least," Rowan said, head cocking with a fond smile. James nodded and grinned. But then his smile faltered.

"I'm sorry, you know? I know you wanted to be our Secret Keeper," he said suddenly. Rowan frowned and glanced over at him. His eyes were still fixed on Harry, but his mouth was tighter now, twisted slightly. "I had originally thought to ask you."

Rowan's frown deepened. "But?" she urged.

James' lips twitched upward. "But after talking it over with Lily, we realized that you have more important things to do," he responded.

Rowan's lips parted questioningly. "What do you mean?" she whispered. She couldn't help the pang of hurt in her chest, though she wasn't sure why.

James' mouth twitched. "You have a definite purpose - a calling. Sirius is an Auror - doing this kind of stuff is his job. Everything you're researching - your role in the Order - it's all much too important. Especially now with the Prewetts gone, I don't know how the Order or our friends would continue if anything were to happen to you," he said. He smiled sadly. "I don't know what _I'd_ do if something were to happen to you. There's no way I could ask you to risk your life for us."

Rowan's throat burned and tightened. She swallowed her tears down and shook her head. "Don't you think I feel the same way about you? How can you expect me to just stand aside as you run?" she asked.

"I don't," he said, "but you have to - in case something happens to me and Lily." He paused, breath catching in his chest. His lips trembled. "I need you to be here - for Harry."

Rowan's eyes widened, and James' face melted sadly. Her gaze scanned over his features rapidly, but he still wouldn't look at her.

"You're being terribly cruel," she breathed.

That sad smile still remained. James shook his head quietly. "I know," he breathed, "but you're going to have to let me do this one on my own this time. Okay?" He finally looked up, eyes burning. Rowan's lips trembled. He lifted a hand and grasped hers, squeezing it tightly. Rowan's heart hit her throat, and she pushed forward, closing the distance between them. He grunted slightly as her chest hit his, but as her arms wrapped around his middle tightly, he squeezed her back. A sob bubbled at the back of her throat, muffled slightly by his jumper.

"You and Sirius are always leaving me behind," she choked out. She thought of the two black-haired boys ditching her in their First Year, giggling amongst themselves secretly. She felt like that little girl again, running desperately after their backs, begging them to wait for her. She could feel James smile into her hair sadly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Rowan shook her head jerkily but kept it buried in his chest. He held her silently, and she cherished every bit of him, willing his presence into her memory. Finally, he pulled away and held her shoulders so that he could look at her. Her face burned with some embarrassment as she realized the redness of her nose, the swollen state of her eyes.

"I know, I know," she said sullenly, wiping away at her eyes. She glared half-heartedly up at him, but he simply smiled. He placed a brotherly hand on her head.

"Thank you," he said. "You know we're going to be okay, right?" He smiled. She felt as if he were pouring all of his gratitude into her hands. It felt very heavy. She couldn't respond, simply nodding tearfully.

"Where will you go?" she asked. She then frowned. "Is it okay to ask you that?"

James nodded. "Yeah, with the Fidelius Charm in place, it won't matter even if you know where we are. You won't be able to see us or even access our hiding place," he explained. "We'll be in Godric's Hollow... in our old home."

Rowan stopped rubbing her eyes and looked up at him. "Godric's Hollow?" she echoed. Green images of the Dark Mark floating over the old Potter home flashed through her mind sickeningly. She suppressed a shudder. "Are you sure? Are you ready to go back there?" she asked concernedly.

James smiled softly and nodded. "Yeah, it's about time I went home I think," he said. "The Death Eaters probably won't think to find us there, and really, Harry should see it. He is a Potter, after all." He gazed warmly at his sleeping son. Rowan's heart clenched.

"I don't know, James," she continued questioningly. "I still think it'd be better to get out of England. Even with the charm, it seems foolish to stay so close."

James was about to respond, but then there was a knock at the door. The two looked up quickly to see Lily standing in the doorway. She was smiling fondly at them, looking slightly tired.

"The others are leaving," she said quietly. Rowan nodded then looked up at James. He smiled and then gestured for her to lead the way. She looked at him searchingly one last time then glanced down at Harry. Her eyes attempted to absorb every inch of his figure before turning reluctantly. She saw Lily still standing in the doorway, smiling sadly at her. Her stomach tightened, but she forced a smile and stepped forward, leading them out of Harry's nursery.

* * *

><p>When they reached the living room, Remus and Mina were talking quietly alone. James looked around questioningly.<p>

"Where are Wormy and Padfoot?" he asked Remus. Remus shrugged.

"They went to get their jackets - taken them a while," he said.

Just on cue, Sirius and Peter re-entered with their jackets on. Both had indiscernible expressions on their faces, mouths taut and eyebrows furrowed. Sirius had a hard look, and Peter looked nearly green in the face. Mina looked at them questioningly.

"Everything all right?" she asked carefully. Sirius looked up at her and pushed a bright grin to his face. Its suddenness was alarming. Rowan nearly recoiled at the sight.

"Of course! Everything's great," he said. His eyes darted to Peter almost unnoticeably, but Rowan caught it. She eyed the two men cautiously. Peter hadn't caught Sirius' glance, but he still looked very sick. What could they have been talking about?

"Everyone ready to go?" Sirius asked. There were some slight nods and quiet murmurs of agreement. James and Lily stepped forward to see them all out.

"Thanks for coming, everyone," Lily said warmly. "We really are so lucky. Really, I-" she stopped, choking slightly with some emotion. James wrapped an arm around her shoulder and smiled fiercely at her. She beamed at the rest of them. "I really can't say thank you enough," she finished brightly.

They all said their goodbyes and hugged both of the Potters. When Rowan stepped forward, James embraced her tightly and gave her one last burning look. "You'll come back again before next weekend, right?" he asked quietly. She nodded eagerly, and he grinned with relief.

Then Lily stepped forward quickly and grasped her so tightly that she lost her breath for a moment. Rowan held the redhead longer than the rest had.

"I'll always be here," she whispered. She felt Lily nod stiffly against her and a rolling wave of jerky breath. She squeezed her again and then let go. Her face was as bright as the sun.

As they stepped out into the night without James and Lily, the moon felt much darker in comparison to the Potters' light. Rowan suddenly felt very empty. Without them there, the awkwardness and bitterness between the rest remained. She turned to say goodbye to everyone and then realized that Remus had snuck up to her side while she'd been distracted. He didn't say anything, but it seemed clear that he wasn't prepared to leave without her. She didn't think she had the energy for it, but she wasn't going to fight it now.

As she embraced her friends goodbye, she noted the stiffness of Sirius' back. When he moved forward to say good night - was there a reluctance there? - he held her a split second shorter than he usually did and without the typical warmth. He didn't even hug Remus goodbye, instead offering an awkward handshake with a strange, guarded look. Mina eyed him and then Remus before shooting Rowan a wary look that said she'd be expecting an update later. Rowan smiled tiredly at the brunette and nodded to the unspoken request. Peter also hugged Rowan a bit too quickly, not even making eye contact with her. It hurt much more than she'd expected. As they Disapparated for their respective homes, she felt very cold.

But then she heard Remus step up beside her again. She nearly sighed but forced herself to look up.

He was smiling quietly, questioningly, down at her, hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders slightly slumped. She knew that guilty look. She wasn't sure if she should be angry or not still.

"Come home with tonight?" he whispered.

Rowan nodded without thinking. She was too tired to think about it now. He reached a hand out questioningly, and she didn't fight it, though resenting the warmth from it a bit. He stepped forward so that their chests were nearly pressed together and then took her other hand too. His fingers laced with hers effortlessly. His lips twitched upward ruefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I fucked up again, didn't I?"

Rowan's eyes began to droop with sleep already. "Maybe," she murmured. "I think we both did." He shook his head silently, guiltily, but leaned forward till their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes.

They Disapparated.


	62. Of Diverging Paths

**A/N:** Hello! This is a fast update, right? It's a little reminiscent of the old days when I was updating daily haha. I'm powering through these chapters despite needing to do work IRL, but whatever. We're so close! And now, I can actually respond to the reviews! Thanks to everyone who's left feedback!

**misalex3030:** DUDE, I can't even explain how happy your reviews make me. I'm sorry for making you cry at work, but I'm so glad you still find this story so compelling after so long. I just wanted to say thank you for continuing to follow along after all this time and for appreciating the work I've put into developing the characters. I really do appreciate it more than I can possibly express.

**wishfulthinker93:** Hello, hello! I'm amazed at how quickly you've gone through the story haha. The idea of a werewolf POV is interesting, but I don't think there's room for it in this installment with the upcoming chapters. I'm sorry! I'll keep the idea in mind though for the next story - I'm sure I can fit it in there somewhere. Thank you so much for the reviews and critiques though! I really love the feedback ^^

**SMGF1:** Thanks so much! And it seems like trouble keeps coming their way, doesn't it? More trouble brewing now too...

**Sweetbutteri:** Hahaha I'm sorry? I suppose that's a good critique to receive, right? These chapters should be coming faster than usual, so I hope you can keep up!

**MaeveDevine:** Hello! It's _so good_ to hear from you again! Thank you so much - I definitely put a lot of thought into how my OCs fit into the original canon without disrupting it too much, so I'm very happy that you appreciate it! Thanks so much again!

**DontTellMeImWrongBitch:** AH RE-READS! I'm so happy! I was worried that the stories were too long for people to want to go back and re-read them, so I'm really, really happy that you have! Thank you so much, as always!

**BeastlyBeauty:** Ah, your reviews are so thorough and meaningful! The greatest compliment is hearing that one's characters have resonated with the reader, so I'm incredibly flattered and humbled that mine have taken hold of you. It's really cool that you're thinking that far ahead in regards to Tonks. She will most definitely play a role in Rowan and Remus' dynamic, though I obviously am rooting for Rowan heh. As for the Lupin children names - YES. You're reading my mind. No spoilers yet though - that's still a ways off.

And I'm so glad someone is feeling for Mina! She's one of my favorite OCs, though other readers don't seem to be empathizing with her much. I'm really glad that her vulnerabilities in the last chapter were appreciated. I'd played with the idea of her going rogue in contrast to Sirius, but it just didn't seem to fit into her character in my mind - I feel like she's the strict justice-for-all type who would rather die a painful death than betray her friends, even in the face of madness. I have a major girl-crush on her. Is that weird?

As for the timeline, _I fucked up._ I realized it about 20 chapters ago, but I totally screwed up the timeline by inserting an extra year in there when outlining the plot. I realized what I'd done after it was too late to fix it, so Harry will only be three months-old when Voldy comes a-knockin' instead of a year and three months. The mistake really bothers me, but the thought of going back and changing everything makes me want to strangle something. So the mistake remains. Sorry -_-

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 62: Of Diverging Paths<strong>

There is a specific ache. It comes with being within reach of something, or someone - something close, something lovely. One must know love to know this bittersweetness. It's just at the tips of one's fingers, but when one reaches for it, the fingers fall through it like air. Then it vanishes. One can hear it, but it's like a ghost on a different plane, like a spirit from the next realm. It can whisper against the cheek, but even when one feels it enter his or her lungs, nothing returns but a sharp gasp of emptiness.

That's what the Potters were now.

They had been gone for two weeks now. It was chilly, mid-October. Rowan had gone back to see James and Lily twice more before they left, rolling around on the floor with little Harry, doting on him incessantly. They didn't pack anything away - it'd be too suspicious. They simply gathered a few necessary belongings and left the rest to gather dust.

She and Remus spent all of Saturday with them, their last day in the real world. They'd spent it in the park, laying in the grass and enjoying the crisp orange autumn. Rowan thought back to the year before and how they'd all cheered and laughed at the Burrow, covered in pumpkin seeds and pulp. She couldn't believe how quickly time had passed. She couldn't believe what they'd lost and gained. She hoped time without them passed just as swiftly until they were back home with her in London.

As she left that evening, James and Lily held her so tightly that she thought she might simply fall into them and spirit away into the night as well. She held Harry closely to her chest, cherished his weight in her arms. He'd grown so much already in just two months - how much bigger would he be the next time she saw him? She ran her hands over his round face, over his chubby, tiny hands. She wanted to ingrain every small gurgle, every sleepy smile, into her memory. It'd be the only piece of him she'd have for a while.

And so the Potters disappeared without a trace, just like they were supposed to. She knew where they were - she could go to Godric's Hollow and see the Potters' old house - but she knew it'd look just as abandoned as before. She knew that no amount of magic could help her enter it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see James and Lily, even if they were right in front of her. She almost wanted to go, just for the faintest chance that they saw her. The thought was surprisingly painful.

And so she'd thrown herself into her work, once again. The next lunar cycle was still two weeks off - on Halloween. The last two experiments had been successful. If things continued this way, she could publish at the beginning of next year, just as planned. She wanted to feel excited - Amrit and Lescos clearly were - but she just couldn't muster it with James and Lily suddenly gone. And with the remaining mourning amongst the Order members, who would celebrate her successes with her now?

She and Remus had made up, in a strange, quiet way. They'd talked, sort of. And they'd apologized to each other, sort of. But nothing had been resolved. Remus had resigned from his position at the I.C.E. and was now looking for another job, half-heartedly, and Rowan admitted that perhaps there was more to his submission than she could understand.

But even so, it didn't make it any easier to accept. Both he and Isaac were so ready to turn away from the injustices heaped upon them, but she still couldn't come to terms with it. She couldn't accept that things had to be this way, and Remus seemed to sense it, avoiding her eye at strange moments of silence. It was painful, watching his dark, shameful expressions re-emerge. She wanted to suffocate them, to stop them in their tracks, but at the very thought, she felt her throat begin to tighten, as if sickened by an acidic taste from memory. She didn't know how to face it, not again. She wasn't sure what had stopped them before. She could only hope that Remus arrived at the same conclusions as he had a year ago, the ones that had brought him back to her.

* * *

><p>"Biscuits for you."<p>

Rowan saw a slender hand enter her frame of vision, placing a delicate plate of chocolate biscuits onto the table, followed by a cup of steaming black tea. She looked up to see Alfred sitting down across from her. He smiled at her.

"You looked like you could use a snack," he said kindly.

Rowan nodded and smiled blearily, blinking dumbly. She grasped the cup of tea and relished its warmth. "Thank you. I definitely needed this," she said gratefully before taking a careful sip. It was hot and very strong. She felt a shot of heat burst from her chest. She hummed with approval.

"I put a bit of your Pick-Me-Up Potion in there," Alfred said, nodding to the tea. Rowan closed her eyes and sighed deeply, savoring the dopamine that seemed to ooze from the back of her throat as the tea scalded its way down. Alfred let out a soft breathy laugh.

"You doing okay?"

Rowan nodded and opened her eyes. Alfred was smiling quietly at her, but there was a trace of concern there. "Yeah, just been a little restless as of late. It's just been hard... you know," she said softly. "How's Julia? Have you seen her at all?" she asked carefully.

Alfred sighed and leaned forward onto the table, resting his chin against folded hands. His eyebrows furrowed together. "She's been by a few times, but not much more than that. She's obviously not in a right state. Your mum's been trying to keep her occupied, but obviously there's not much she can do," he explained lowly. His expression darkened. "I still don't understand why she didn't just go with them. It doesn't seem right for her to stay behind. She could lose her mind any day now at this rate."

Rowan nodded. She didn't understand why Dumbledore didn't let Julia go with James and Lily either, but he'd recommended that she stay. _It will look too suspicious if she were to disappear as well_, he'd said. _Better for her to remain here and continue on as if all is well._

But all was _not_ well. Rowan's godmother was on the brink of instability. She'd finally been able to start moving on with her life from John Potter's death after James and Lily had married and had truly been happy after the birth of her grandson, but now, she was completely alone. No matter how much time Carole spent with her, it wasn't the same as having her family. It seemed unnecessarily cruel.

_Ding. Dong._

Rowan jerked up at the sound of the doorbell. Alfred frowned and stood from the kitchen table.

"Who...?" he mumbled as he moved to the foyer. Rowan heard him stepping quietly through the halls and opening the front door. There was a greeting of male voices, but she couldn't discern them. Her breath caught for a moment, and she pulled out her wand for good measure. She knew she was probably being paranoid, but it wouldn't hurt to be careful.

But no shouts came. Rowan could hear Alfred inviting the men in, followed by a series of footsteps. The grip on her wand loosened, and as the kitchen door re-opened, she looked up to see two of her colleagues entering with Alfred.

"Evening, girlie!" Lescos greeted heartily. Rowan perked up with surprised and stood.

"Lescos! Isaac! What're you doing here?" she babbled dumbly. She stepped forward to greet them, and Lescos clapped a giant hand to her shoulder. She staggered slightly under its weight but grinned up at him. Isaac smiled softly.

"We both have some news for you. We went to Amrit's to see if you were there, but she said you were doing research from your home laboratory today. Neither of us could wait until tomorrow, so we decided to simply come see you here," he explained softly. His head then cocked slightly. "I hope that is all right," he added.

Rowan nodded and smiled. "Of course, it is! Please, sit down!" she invited eagerly. She looked around to see Alfred already placing a couple of new cups down on the table, pouring them tea - always effortlessly efficient. He then moved to retreat, but Isaac stopped him.

"No, wait," he called suddenly. Alfred stopped jerkily and looked up, surprised. Isaac also looked surprised by his interjection. He frowned slightly then cleared his throat. "Please," he corrected, "I am sure Rowan would like you to hear this news as well. Better for you to hear it now rather than have her retell it later."

Alfred frowned as well but nodded, maneuvering carefully back around to Rowan's side of the table. He sat down quietly and didn't say anything more. Rowan glanced awkwardly between them. Lescos watched them curiously but said nothing.

Finally, Isaac cleared his throat again and continued with his original intention:

"Are you ready to reconstruct the apothecary?"

Rowan's eyes widened. "Wha-" she gasped. Her lungs filled rapidly. "Really?" Isaac nodded stoically, staring at her in that heavy way of his. Before she could stop herself, she was nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, of course!" she exclaimed. "How? When do we start?"

Isaac smiled softly at her enthusiasm. "I have found an official in the Department of Building who is interested in helping you hire contractors and writing up all of the necessary property documents. We can begin the documentation as soon as Monday. He has already scouted the site and believes that with the right construction company, we can have the apothecary rebuilt as early as February, possibly sooner if we begin right away."

"But that's so soon!" Rowan marveled. "How...? I don't understand how that can be-" she sputtered. She shook herself mentally. "Yes! Let's get started right away!"

Isaac smiled gently and slid a crisp yellow folder across the table to her. She took it gratefully and opened it to reveal a series of dense documents.

"Read through those over the weekend and compile a list of any questions you may have. I will arrange a meeting on Monday for us and my acquaintance, and he will go through the procedures for us to begin," he said. Rowan nodded dazedly, eyes skimming through the heavy legal language. She was suddenly very grateful she would have Isaac there with her. There was no way she could understand half of this clearly. She looked up and smiled whole-heartedly at the older man.

"Thank you, Isaac. Really, I don't know what I'd do without you," she said genuinely. He regarded her fondly and nodded before turning to Lescos. The large man beamed and puffed out his chest proudly.

"My turn!" he declared. Rowan smiled sheepishly at the giant man. He leaned forward almost conspiratorially, mustache twitching with excitement. "So you know how you mentioned needing to go to Hungary? Something about those flowers of ol' Belby's, right?"

Rowan leaned forward as well at this. She saw Alfred frown from the corner of her eye - whoops. She hadn't told him about this plan of hers. She would have to deal with it later. She nodded for Lescos to continue. He grinned.

"Well, I just so happen to be from around that neck of the woods."

Rowan's eyes widened for the nth time that afternoon. "Seriously? Why didn't you say something before?" she asked incredulously.

Lescos' grin widened even farther. "Yup! Ya see, I haven't been back to the motherland since I was a wee lad, so I don't know much about it and wanted to make sure I could really come up with something before gettin' your hopes up, but I've got a distant relative or two still back in the old country, and they're willing to put ya up if you're still interested in going."

Rowan's mouth gaped slightly. "You're kidding," she breathed. Her mouth stretched into a broad smile. "Lescos, you're amazing! I can't believe you've done all this for me!"

Lescos nodded happily, obviously very pleased with himself. He absorbed her praised with his chest thrown out, large chin held high. "Aye, aye, girlie. And I was thinking - obviously, you'll have a hard time getting around alone - not a whole lot of English once you get into those mountains, and I haven't exactly been back in a while..."

Rowan nodded eagerly at the implication. Her smile broadened into an excited grin, which Lescos returned. "... So I was thinking the Professor and I would come with ya! What do you think?"

Rowan clapped her hands together with glee and nearly squealed. "Are you kidding? That'd be fantastic! Merlin!" she exclaimed. She imagined that glowing field of flowers, the sea of flowing green and white blossoms. Her chest tightened almost painfully. But then her smile faltered.

"But the apothecary..." she breathed. She looked to Isaac. "And the paper - how can we possibly go if no one is here to look over my apothecary? And what about the potion?" Her chest deflated. "There's no way I can leave after publishing either - not without anyone here to administer it properly while I'm away. And if you and Amrit are with me..." She nearly sighed.

"It does not have to be right after you publish. You and Lescos can leave at anytime," Isaac said quietly. Rowan looked up at the calm man. He was smiling gently at her.

"That's right. Those flowers ain't going anywhere," Lescos said, grinning teasingly at her. "We can go whenever you're ready, whether that's right after you publish or after you find someone who can take over in your stead or whatever. We have time."

Rowan rolled the words over in her head and nodded slowly. It seemed so far off still. The flowers were so far away, like another phantom just beyond her reach. There were so many of them, it seemed. She suddenly felt slightly disheartened, but as she gripped the folder of documents in her hands in front of her, her stomach loosened slightly - at least there was one thing that wasn't so distant.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready, Peter?"<p>

He wasn't. Peter's entire body shook violently, like an otherworldly cold had overcome him. He couldn't seem to steady his hands.

He, Sirius, James, and Lily stood in the dark drawing room of Potter Manor. It was the first he'd seen of them in two weeks. Lily held Harry in her arms, cradling him against her chest as if to shield him from her. _Good_, he thought. _Yes, protect him from me. _

He felt himself nodding dumbly, but he could barely even comprehend the question. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, how his fortune could have unraveled so tragically. He wasn't sure how Sirius had already revealed the Potters' Secret - how else could he see them now? He wanted more than anything to run away, to throw himself at their feet, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, the Tongue-Tying Curse Bellatrix had placed on him would force his tongue down his own throat, and he'd sputter and gasp breathlessly.

"Hold out your wand arm."

Peter trembled. His wand hand gripped his left forearm, which burned beneath the long sleeves of his robes. He looked between Sirius and James searchingly, as if hoping the command hadn't come from either of them. But Sirius simply stared hard at Peter, eyes glinting. James nodded solemnly. Peter's lips shook, as did his hand as it rose from his side. He held it out, palm up, and as Sirius raised his own, Peter clenched his eyes shut.

He gasped in pain as he felt a cold, sharp blade slide against his palm. It stung, open and fresh for a moment, before a hot wetness began to pool slowly in his cupped hand. He kept his fingers squeezed together tightly, as if trying to save his precious blood.

He then heard the soft whisper of the blade against another palm. This time he did let out a soft whimper. It wasn't his hand, but he felt it all the same. It hurt even more, if possible. His left arm stung, as if the newborn monster there could smell the cut flesh.

There was a drip. Then another drip. The small line of blood in his hand began to accumulate. He opened his eyes and nearly whimpered again. Sirius' hand was held over his, fingers flexed and stretched wide. The taller man's blood fell in steady drips, falling in a slow rhythm into the crevasse in Peter's skin.

_Drip. Drip._

"I'm going to begin now," James whispered. Sirius nodded, his eyes fixed on his own hand. Peter couldn't move. Lily moved towards James with Harry still clutched to her chest. The infant slept soundly. She leaned against her husband's shoulder slightly, lips pursed tightly.

"_Sanguinis in corde meo, et fratres mei..."_

From the tip of James wand smoked a golden haze. It floated and twisted in rhythm with the steady candor of his voice until it enveloped both Sirius and Peter's hands. It was warm - almost hot - but Peter shivered as a chill crept up his spine. It threatened to burst from his mouth sourly, but he swallowed it back.

Suddenly, the steady drip of Sirius' blood stopped. The blood pooled in Peter's cupped hand was now significant, perhaps a tablespoon. He tried desperately not to look at it, but it held a noticeable weight, a heavy burden. It felt cold. James continued to chant quietly, the soft glow of the haze still swirling slowly around them.

Then, there it was. It was a soft red light. It swelled at Sirius' palm, sliding slowly from the slit in his skin. Sirius' face glistened with exertion, teeth grit harshly. His breath came loudly, labored. His chest heaved visibly. Peter could see a muscles in his neck twitch as the heavy dripping red light pulled ever downward, like a gooey trail of oil. It inched closer and closer to Peter's hand. The small pool of blood in his palm began to quiver in resonance with this pulsating light.

He didn't want it. _He didn't want it!_ He could feel his chest draw back, but his palm remained outward. He couldn't seem to move it, but he desperately wanted to. He needed to get away from this!

_Please_, he despaired mentally. _Please don't give me this burden! You don't know what you're asking of me! _

"Don't move, Peter!" Sirius barked. And with that, the light touched his palm.

"No!" he cried out. Heat burst from his hand. His entire arm felt like it was on fire.

"Come on, Peter! _Keep going!"_

Tears trailed down Peter's face. His mouth hung open, gaping wildly in a silent scream. It burned. _It burned._ Somewhere in the back of his mind - was it his? - he heard high-pitched laughter, terrible laughter.

Finally, something broke. There was a sharp flash of blinding light, and the golden haze imploded. It snapped against Peter and Sirius' hands with a _clap, _and with another final cry of pain, his legs seemed to snap beneath the weight of this new burden. Both men slumped to the floor, chests heaving.

The heat lingered in his arm. He could barely feel it. It lay limp next to him. He realized numbly that his cheeks were coated with salty tears, but he couldn't wipe them away.

_What had he done?_

Suddenly, he was being hauled to his feet. The ceiling swung low and then he saw a pair of bright brown eyes burning into him. He was then against a hard chest.

"Thank you," the voice whispered. James gripped him tightly. He couldn't move to embrace his friend back. He wasn't sure if it was because of his arm.

Then he was being spun around to face another dark-haired man. "Sorry, mate," Sirius said gruffly, hugging him gruffly as well. "You did good, Pete. You did it." He then turned to where James and Lily were, but his eyes trailed over them vaguely, unfocused. He smiled sadly, and Peter realized that he could no longer see them - their Secret was now _his._

The tears came again. How could they be so naive? How could they truly believe that? Didn't they know they'd just signed their own death warrants?

Somewhere, faintly, a pair of red eyes glowed within him. He couldn't respond to his friends' praise. He simply bowed his head and swallowed down his grief. Beneath his robes, his left forearm burned.


	63. Of All Hallows' Eve

**A/N:** Where did my reviewers go...?

One last **rated M** chapter for you guys. I hadn't been planning on it, but it seems to fit somehow. It's not very sexy though, in my opinion. There's a huge buzzkill right after it, too. That might be the greatest understatement I've made in a while.

**missalex3030:** Thank you! Yeah, the Fidelius Charm is one of those seemingly important story elements that J.K. never elaborated upon as much as I would've liked, and of course, my take is particularly dark. It seems like a spell that would require a price, right? Thanks for the review, as always!

**SMGF1:** Hi, hello! More Rowan and Remus!

**lovirosa:** Hello! Yes, I've been really pushing through the updates haha. I'm just too excited to finish up this story and move on to the next! And no, unfortunately for Rowan and Remus, they've been left in the dark.

Congrats on the new place! Hope it hasn't been too stressful. Thanks for reviewing!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 63: Of All Hallows' Eve<strong>

"Happy Halloween, girl!"

Rowan looked up from her workbench and shrieked as a pile of orange fell upon her. She sputtered and flailed, slapping away a sea of pumpkin-shaped confetti. The paper jack-o-lantern faces cackled around her, poofing into smoke as they hit the ground. She looked up bewildered to see Lescos grinning down at her broadly.

"You don't look very festive. Don't you know it's Halloween?" he bellowed. Rowan smiled sheepishly.

"I completely forgot, to be honest. I guess I just didn't put the date and the holiday together," she admitted. She knew logically that it was October 31st, but for some reason, it didn't click until now that October 31st was more significant than just a full moon. She supposed that showed where her mind was. She tried to bite back a yawn, but it escaped anyway. Lescos shook his head disbelievingly.

"Honestly, you need to get some sleep. We all know the potion is a success. You don't need to keep pushing yourself so hard," he scolded. He looked her over in an avuncular way. "When was the last time you even shagged that bloke of yours?"

Rowan was sure her face was bright red. "W-What?" she sputtered. "What do you-? I mean-" She couldn't even get the words out.

Lescos just laughed. "Calm down, girl. I'm just messin' with ya," he teased. "But really, isn't Remus leaving for his transformation? Shouldn't you go home and see him before he goes?"

Rowan winced. He was right. She hadn't seen much of him over the past couple of weeks. After James and Lily had disappeared, she'd hoped that their group of friends would rally together to support each other, but it seemed that the rift was only growing. Though she and Mina still kept up with each other each week, Sirius still looked shifty in her and Remus' presence, and she hadn't even seen Peter at all beyond their Order meetings. She suddenly missed all of them terribly.

And Remus - she nearly sighed at the very thought of him. They saw each other nearly everyday still, but the weight of the air between them still felt heavy. He was in higher spirits than before, but there was something there, something she couldn't identify. She reasoned that she'd have done something about it by now if she even knew what _it _was, but she didn't. She wasn't sure if he did either.

"Go home. See him off and then come back. You don't need to rush. We'll be here to look after Isaac," Lescos commanded. Rowan looked up at him. His long face smiled gently at her, and she felt that familiar warmth that Fabian used to leave with his avuncular advice and support. Rowan nodded and stood from her stool.

"Yeah," she said, smiling, "I think I will."

* * *

><p>Remus' shocked expression at finding her at his door was endearing, to say the least. She was reminded of that terrible night two years ago when she'd showed up on his doorstep in tears after discovering Isaiah Jones' treachery. She nearly frowned - had it really been that long? So much had seemingly changed since then. But really - had <em>anything<em> between them changed?

"Winnie," he said as he answered the door, surprised. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "I thought you were at the lab. Don't you have-"

Rowan was overcome suddenly with a strange tightness in her chest. Had it really been so long since the last time she'd seen him off for his transformation? She'd been working all this time for _him_, and yet she'd completely forgotten about him in the midst of her mania. Guilt trickled down her throat. She pushed a smile to her face - he looked even more confused - and then pushed him into his flat.

He grunted as her lips connected with his. She wasn't sure where all of this was coming from, but she suddenly needed to feel him against her, to know that he still knew she was his. She kicked the door closed behind her as they stumbled back into his flat and then pushed him to his bed quickly, hands clinging to his shirt with desperate fingers.

"Rowan," Remus gasped as her lips trailed up his jaw. Despite his confusion, his hands gripped her thighs tightly as she climbed into his lap. He choked slightly as she ground her pelvis against his. Pupils dilating, he reached up quickly and tangled a hand in her hair, bringing her mouth back up to his. She groaned into the kiss.

Their clothes came off clumsily, hurriedly. Her fingers fumbled with the belt on his trousers as his yanked at her jumper. As she pulled it over her head, he threw his own to the side, and then they were falling back onto the mattress, legs tangled in each other's pant legs.

Finally, they freed their appendages from their respective clothing, and she scrambled back into his lap. He sat up again, pulling her face to his. His tongue pushed into her mouth hotly as his fingers scored down her side, scalding over her hips until they reached their goal. She gasped against his mouth - he grinned.

His fingers pushed her panties to the side, dipping into the wetness that had already accumulated. She whimpered and pushed against him. He pressed his palm against her clitoris hard.

"Remus," she gasped, grabbing him through his briefs. He groaned into her mouth. She quickly freed him from his underwear and positioned herself over him. "Please, just-"

Her words drowned into a soft, muffled shriek as he pulled her down over him, burying himself inside of her. She throbbed and clenched at the sudden stretch - it really _had_ been a long time. Remus gasped and held her against him tightly, still. His breath came panting, and she trembled, clutching to his shoulders desperately.

Finally, one hand fell to her hip, and he thrust up into her, pulling another moan from her lips. He pulled away slightly, pressing his forehead against hers as he moved against her. As they rocked together, she held his gaze and felt an almost-ache in her stomach, a bittersweet loneliness and completion all at once.

"Remus," she whispered. His eyes burned into her. It was overwhelming. She couldn't stand to see him looking at her that way. It hurt, and yet, she was afraid that if she looked away, he would disappear as well.

"Winnie," he bit out. "Come on, darling." She could see the muscles in his shoulders straining for control.

She shook her head dumbly. Her head was so heavy, a cloudy haze. "I can't," she whimpered. "Please, come with me. I don't want to - alone... I can't-" She cried out as he thrust hard into her.

"Yes," he gasped. "I'm going to come too. Come on. Come with me, Rowan." He thrust once, twice more, and she was gasping and clawing and clenching down on him, clutching to his shoulders desperately. She vaguely heard him choking out a broken version of her name before spilling himself into her. Her entire body burned.

They fell back into the bed, but she didn't roll off of him. She continued to hold onto him tightly, fingers digging into his skin almost painfully. Their skin stuck together with their sweat and exertion, but she couldn't bear the thought of being even an inch away from him somehow. It had been so long since he'd really looked at her, and yet now that he had, she was terrified to let him go. When would he look at her that way again?

"Rowan," he whispered imploringly. His hands ran up her back gently, fingers running through her hair. He pulled her face back gently. The green of his eyes filled her vision, searching hers desperately. "Winnie, what's wrong?"

Rowan realized dumbly that he was wiping something away from her face. She was crying. Her lips trembled at the realization.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling away, suddenly ashamed. "I don't know why- I mean, I-" She scrambled for the words, for the reason, but she couldn't find any. Her face burned with embarrassment. She frantically pushed away from him while trying to wipe her tears away.

But then his hands secured around her waist, and he pulled her tightly against him. She yelped slightly as she slid quickly across the sheets until she hit his chest. His skin seared against hers.

"Winnie," he whispered. Her face was buried in his neck. She inhaled deeply, taking in his familiar scent. Her stomach clenched. How could she have gone so long without touching him like this? "Tell me what's wrong," he said quietly.

The tears burned at her eyes again. Her hands lifted carefully, sliding up his back. Her palms laid flat against the hard planes of muscle and skin. She trembled slightly.

"I don't know," she admitted. Her fingers gripped him a little tighter. "I just... I don't know." She paused for a moment, allowing his heat to soak into her bones. It made her feel a bit braver, a bit more at home in her own skin. "I was just so scared for a moment. I don't know why. I just..." Her voice trembled. "I don't want you to go away. I don't want to be alone." Shame hit her. "I'm sorry. It's like I left you alone all this time and now I'm afraid you'll do the same. Pretty hypocritical of me, isn't it?"

Remus' arms tightened around her. Every inch of her body seemed to be pressed against him.

"No," he whispered. "It's okay. You don't ever have to apologize to me for that. I..." He swallowed hard. "I left you alone too." She felt him bury his nose in her hair. "But you know that no matter what happens, I'm... I'm always going to come back to you. You know that, right?"

Rowan's entire body trembled. She nodded jerkily against his chest as more tears finally leaked. She could feel rather than see the sun lowering down towards the horizon - a cruel reminder of their curfew. She could feel the night approaching and, with it, the full moon. She pressed herself even closer.

* * *

><p>Rowan gazed around at Remus' flat as he stood to dress, holding his sheets to her still-bare form. Yellow and orange light spilled into the dark room. Every line of muscle and bone seemed highlighted and contrasted in the harsh light. She wanted to trail her fingers along each peak and crest. His hair seemed to glow like a bright fire. She held one of his pillows against her chest tightly, inhaling the remnants of his scent there.<p>

Finally, after he'd pulled his trousers back into place, he turned towards her and smiled gently. Padding back to her quietly, he lowered himself to the bed next to her, eyes shining in the evening light. His face was so close, hair grazing against her forehead. She sighed and leaned into him, pressing her head against his. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, as if relishing the moment.

When she opened her eyes again, he was gazing at her intently.

"I love you," he whispered.

Her mouth twitched upward quietly. "I love you, too." She thought for a moment. "Please be safe," she added.

He smiled gently. They both knew those were useless words in a way. "You, too," he whispered. He lifted a hand and tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "Come back here in the morning?"

Rowan smiled and nodded. "I'll be here," she promised.

He smiled and leaned in. His lips pressed softly against hers, and she sighed longingly. They slid against each other for the briefest of moments before he pulled away.

"Time to go," he said sadly. She nodded and closed her eyes as he pressed one last kiss against her temple, then he stood quietly and made his way for the door.

As she watched him softly close the door behind him, the deepest ache filled her stomach, a great sense of despair. The heat in her throat finally spilled over and she choked - heaved - for one brief moment before swallowing it back down. Her lungs trembled as she willed the painful sensation of emptiness to the back of her mind. With one last deep, jerky breath, she opened her eyes and looked back around at her own scattered clothing. She willed herself forward, steeled against the blood red sky. She needed to get back to the lab.

* * *

><p>"Lil, do you remember that animation charm that Remus did on the Weasleys' pumpkins last year? <em>Aniluminate?"<em>

Lily sighed as she heard her husband call from the kitchen. She could only imagine the disastrous mess he and Harry had created while carving pumpkins together.

"It's _Aniluminus_," she responded patiently.

"Oh, right. Thanks!"

She smiled amusedly as she heard James' voice mutter the incantation, followed by a dramatic lion's roar. A delighted baby's squeal harmonized with it. She grinned to herself as she turned back to the parchment and quill in her lap. She nibbled at the end of the long golden plume thoughtfully as she read over what she'd already written. Laid to the side with an envelope was a moving photo of James pouting and trying to gently pry a blue and gold stuffed ball from Harry's hands.

_Dear Rowan,_

_I hope you're well. How's work going? How's Mina? It's been quite lonely here without anyone to talk to besides James, but we're holding up okay. Harry is really in love with the Puddlemere United stuffed quaffle you got him. James is livid that he's taking a liking to your team's gear more than his, but it's been quite amusing seeing the two wrestle over it. I think it's just a matter of time before he's riding around on that toy broomstick Sirius got him and breaking everything in sight..._

She smiled over the words as she thought of Rowan's cheeky grin. She missed the black-haired girl terribly. She would give a great deal of gold to be able to just enjoy a cup of tea with her.

She frowned. She couldn't help but wonder how her friends were doing. Rowan and Remus had seemed to be getting on better when they'd left, but she couldn't be sure how things were going now. She wanted to believe that they were okay - she couldn't imagine a world with them not together - but who could say at this point? Remus had lost his job after all. She couldn't even begin to empathize with how ashamed he must feel, how emasculated. She mused that if anyone was capable of making their men feel insecure, it was Rowan and Mina. She smiled strangely at the thought. She was very fortunate to have such strong friends.

She stood from the couch and stretched her arms overhead languorously with a slight groan. Things had gone quiet suddenly. She frowned slightly and headed to the kitchen.

"James?" she called - no answer. Her frown deepened. She pushed the door open into the kitchen. "Everything oka-"

She gasped as she was pulled into the large kitchen pantry by strong hands. Pressed up against the wall with one hand covering her mouth, her scream was silenced at the sight of her husband's face looming in her vision. Harry was strapped to his back.

"_Quiet_," he hissed. His face was hard as he listened carefully. Lily strained her ears to hear for whatever he was listening for, but her heart was pounding so hard that she could barely hear her own thoughts. Heat surged under her skin with panic.

But then she heard it - the sound of footsteps. Every muscle in her body clenched - _how?_ James turned back to her quickly.

"Take Harry upstairs and lock the door behind you. Send word to Dumbledore as fast as you can, and no matter what happens, do not open the door. Do you understand?" he whispered hurriedly, untying Harry from his back. The infant didn't make a sound - had James put a calming charm on him?

"James, you can't-" she started, but the hard look in his eyes quickly silenced her.

"_Lily, don't fight me,"_ he hissed. Lily recoiled at his tone. He had _never_ spoken so harshly to her. Her entire body trembled as she took Harry into her arms. James' eyes softened slightly at the fear on her face, but he didn't apologize. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers softly. She felt her stomach lurch painfully - he was trembling.

Finally, he pulled away and steeled his gaze once more. "I love you," he said fiercely. She searched his face with panic, but before she could say the words back, he began again: "When I count to three, you're going to run up the stairs and not look back. Do you understand?" he whispered fiercely.

Lily couldn't find her voice. Her throat was tight, as if swollen shut. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted him to know. Heat burned at the backs of her eyes. She swallowed them down and nodded. James nodded back, gaze scoring into her. But as he opened his mouth to begin, there was a deafening crack of wood. Glass shattered. Lily felt herself flying forward and out of the kitchen forcefully. She clung to Harry tightly and cried out with fear.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"

Everything in her screamed to stay, but at the sight of James' eyes burning with anger, she turned and ran.

Feet pounding down the winding halls, she ran half-blindly. Shouts echoed behind her, but she continued to run, sprint. Her lungs burned as Harry began to cry. Her own tears mixed with his.

The halls seemed never-ending. Harry's wailing cries echoed and bounced deafeningly around them. They seemed to take on a tunneling form. Her legs were numb, clumsy, as she sprinted down the halls and to Harry's room where they had set up the most intense protective spells. She slammed the door behind them and spun wildly. She pointed her wand at the door with shaking hands, sputtering out every spell she could think of, but even her thoughts seemed to trip over themselves. She stumbled backwards, nearly falling over Harry's toys. Her back hit the distant wall, and she slid down it, knees giving out. She held Harry to her chest in a vice-grip. She clutched her wand frantically.

_Happy memories_, she thought desperately. _Think of something happy!_

"_Expecto patronum,"_ she gasped. A doe burst from her wand and ran off into the distance. _Hurry!_ she screamed mentally.

She cried out as she heard another crash of glass and wood from below. There was a grunt, an incoherent shout, and she knew it was James. Her breath was ragged, threatening to choke out altogether.

And then it went silent. Her tears fell freely. She could barely even see her son's tiny face. Her mind thrashed wildly, avoiding any thought of her husband. She wouldn't think of him, wouldn't think of him, wouldn't think of him. Don't think. _Don't think._

"Harry," she whispered. His cries softened slightly as she rocked them both. "Harry, my darling, my baby. _Harry_." She wasn't sure if she was comforting him or herself. "Mummy loves you. Mummy and Daddy love you, Harry." She was sobbing now. Her tears dripped over them both hotly. She could feel her son's cheek wet against her own. She turned her face towards his, pressing their foreheads together. Her red hair fell around them both.

The door began to crack.

"Mummy loves you," she gasped breathlessly. Her breaths were coming in shallow, drowning gulps. "Mummy loves you. Mummy will always love you."

The door fell open. She turned her face upward, her son tight in her arms.

* * *

><p>Sirius Black couldn't sit still. He and his girlfriend were listening to the radio in their flat - one of their usual programs - but he just couldn't shake this terrible feeling. It crept up his spine and broke across his forehead in a cold sweat. He reached up quickly to wipe some of it from his face. His fingers tapped against his knee rapidly.<p>

"What's wrong?"

Sirius jolted slightly with surprise and looked down to see Mina peering up at him from, eyes creased with concern. Her head laid in his lap, body stretched out across the couch. In her hands was a book, which had been put to the side momentarily.

It was all so normal. He looked down to see his hand tangled lightly with a few strands of her wavy hair. Her warmth was familiar. This position was familiar. This was normal. This was what they always did on this day of the week.

So why did he feel so sick with anxiety?

He felt like he'd suddenly realized he was asleep and within a dream. But this was no dream. No, it was much too warm and yet too cold. There was an ache in his stomach, a distant soreness in his joints and hands. _Why couldn't he shake this?_

"I need to take a walk," he said suddenly. Mina's frown deepened as she sat up to let him stand. He practically sprang to his feet. She stood to follow him.

"Sirius, what's wrong? What's happened?" she asked worriedly, following him to the door. He was nearly jogging now, hands scrambling for his jacket, which hung beside the door. His arms jerked clumsily into the sticky black leather before groping for the door. But then a slender hand covered his own.

He looked down to see Mina staring widely up at him, her eyes large with fear. He was suddenly jolted from his strange mania for a moment at the sight of her, her eyes so blue and large. They scoured his face beseechingly, silently, and his stomach churned with guilt. He took his hands off of the doorknob and raised them to her face, cupping her cheeks gently. He pressed his lips to hers softly.

"I'll be right back," he whispered against them. He pulled away slightly. Her eyes were still wide with anxiety. "Wait for me here," he said. She nodded slowly, and he smiled gently before kissing her once more. Then after releasing her face, she held his gaze for a moment longer before stepping back slightly. He squeezed her hand reassuringly before stepping out. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click.

As he hit the pavement outside, he heard the distant echoing of a bell tower from a nearby church. It was midnight - November 1st. Each gong seemed to deepen that gnawing fear within him. A cold breeze blew down the street, pulling a current of brown and red leaves with it. He thought of James and Lily.

It was useless, wasn't it? His chest was tight at the thought of how far away they were from him. He couldn't see them no matter how hard he tried - their Secret wasn't his anymore - but he knew he had to check anyway. He had to make sure they were okay.

Peter - he needed to see Peter.

He grabbed the handles of his flying motorbike on the curb, and it kicked into life, roaring loudly between the buildings. Swinging his leg over the back, the leather creaked against his trousers. As he rode down the empty streets, he hit a switch. The motorbike roared again and then pushed up from the ground like a rearing lion. The night sky overtook him, large and looming overhead. The air was very cold.


	64. Of Those Left Behind

**A/N:** This and the next chapter were especially hard chapter to write, structurally and emotionally. Mina's POV [finally] was especially hard. It was really difficult imagining that situation.

BUT I've finally drafted the last chapter. There will be 68! WOO UNDER 70!

**Guest...?:** You didn't sign your review so I don't have a nom de guerre to place to your voice, but thank you so much for the encouraging review!

**missalex3030:** Hahaha yes, definitely a good choice. I'll just say that you probably shouldn't read the next 3 chapters in public. But after that, I think it should be okay. Thanks so much as always though! Hope you're doing well too!

**MaeveDevine: **Haha yeah, it's been such a long anticipated sequence of events. I'm glad you've been excited for it too! Thank you, thank you!

**SMGF1:** Haha I can always depend on you to love the Rowan x Remus scenes. And yup, Sirius is back for this one. Thank you for the review, as always!

**casualmoose:** So good to hear from you again! Thanks for the review! I was hesitant to write that scene too. It was difficult navigating through it, but since James has been a larger focus than Sirius in this story, I figured it wouldn't be right to pass over it, right? Thanks so much for following along still. It makes me really happy to know that you expect good work from me. I hope you're having a good day as well ^^

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 64: <strong>**Of Those Left Behind**

Morning whispered on the horizon softly, like the gentlest splash of watercolor in a pool of ink. It arrived with the same, wondrous results as the two cycles before. As they pulled an exhausted, naked Isaac from his restraints, Rowan felt the chill of November hit her lungs, and the first breath of winter smoked out of her mouth in exchange. She hoped that the success of this experiment might speak of the rest of the month as well.

But just as the wish formed in her heart, Rowan gasped. She leapt backward as a burst of silver erupted from the floor, arms shielding the fading Isaac. But then the shock was filled with a deep, clawing fear as the familiar glow took shape. The silvery mist solidified into a broad-winged, magnificent bird - a phoenix. Albus Dumbledore's voice filled the room and, with it, Rowan's terror.

"_Come to Hogwarts immediately. Do not speak to anyone. It is of the utmost urgency."__  
><em>

Before the Patronus' message had even completed. Rowan had already turned to Lescos and Amrit.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out. She didn't wait for them to respond before scrambling to her feet for her things. She didn't even grab her coat. As soon as she hit the pavement outside, she was gone.

* * *

><p>Rowan didn't take a breath to rest as she Apparated into Hogsmeade. As soon as she felt her feet hit the ground, she was running for Hogwarts Castle. Her lungs burned by the time she reached the front gates, but at the sight of Minerva McGonagall rushing out to meet her, all fatigue seemed to disappear.<p>

"What's happened? Where is Dumbledore?" she gasped, grasping the older woman's arms. She could barely control herself. Every fiber of her being was screaming. It was taking all of her efforts to not give her panic full form.

"He's in his office. You must go immediately. The password is 'gumdrop,'" the older witch said quickly. Her own hands trembled. Rowan nodded, and without another word, she rushed into the castle.

* * *

><p>"Professor!"<p>

Rowan sprinted up the spiral staircase of the Headmaster's office blindly, skidding to a halt at the top where she was greeted by _two_ figures, not just one. The elegant, steely-eyed Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold stood with Albus Dumbledore in the center of the office, both looking very grave.

"Professor," Rowan said dumbly. She stared for a moment before turning to the illustrious woman in front of her. "Minister," she greeted quietly. The shock still held her limbs in a vice grip. What was the Minister doing there?

"Rowan," the Headmaster greeted quietly. He seemed to choke on her name. "I'm sorry for the suddenness of all of this, but something has happened." His eyes crinkled sadly. Rowan's stomach lurched - were there tears in his eyes?

"I don't know how to say this, Rowan." He paused, and Rowan realized with horror that this illustrious man was trying to hold himself together. Time seemed to still. His breath was coming shallowly, lips pursed tightly.

"Lily and James Potter are dead."

Rowan's head jerked and stared blankly at the Minister. She hadn't seen the words leave the woman's mouth. There was no way she had said such a thing, right? Rowan heard static in her ears.

"I'm sorry?" she exhaled. The corner of her mouth twitched upward, as if remembering a distant joke. Surely, she hadn't-

"Lily and James Potter have been murdered."

The world twisted around her. Her head seemed to swell heavily, eyes rolling into the back of her head momentarily.

"I-" she started then shut her mouth again. It came in a gasp. She couldn't breathe.

"They were killed last night by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at approximately 23:50 in their home at Godric's Hollow. Their son Harry is currently in the Ministry's custody."

Rowan didn't know where the ceiling was. Her eyes seemed to be rolling uncontrollably. Her stomach was in her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't... couldn't-

Rowan's eyes seemed to snap forward again, air hitting her lungs. Sirius...?

Heat rushed into her face. Sirius. _Sirius. _

"How?" she choked out. "I-I don't understand." Her breathe was coming rapidly. "Sirius... Sirius would _never_ give them up. That's the only way how He... We have to find hi-" She choked on her own spit, sputtering ungracefully as tears rushed into her eyes.

"That's why we've called you here, Rowan."

Rowan's body jolted again. She gaped up at Dumbledore, whose gaze was still soft and painful. Minister Bagnold's expression was hard and sharp, directed completely at her.

"He was last seen at the Potters' home at around 0:35 this morning. Rubeus Hagrid encountered him while fetching the Potters' son from the crime scene. He gave Mr. Hagrid his flying motorbike and then disappeared. We need to know where he is," the Minister continued.

Rowan's head was spinning. Sirius. Hagrid. Harry. 0:35. 23:50. Her head swam with numbers. 45 minutes after. But how?

"Sirius was James and Lily's Secret Keeper, Rowan."

Static again. Rowan nearly fell forward with her head suddenly heavy like lead. She staggered ever-so-slightly under its weight.

"What're you saying?" she breathed. Dumbledore looked at her sadly with that light blue gaze.

"The only explanation for the Potters' death is that they were given up by Mr. Black to You-Know-Who," Minister Bagnold said tersely, clearly becoming impatient with Rowan and Dumbledore. "It is imperative that we find him immediately. If you have any knowledge of his whereabouts, you must tell us now."

Rowan shook her head dumbly. Her hair flopped messily, and she realized vaguely how disheveled she must look.

"I don't know," she mumbled deafly. Her head continued to shake. "I don't know." Her stomach was so tight. She could barely make sense of up or down. "Mina, Peter..." she muttered. "Where's are they?"

"Auror Moody is currently in pursuit of Sirius Black and has informed me that he has commanded Auror Surrey to remain at the Ministry. The whereabouts of Mr. Pettigrew are unknown."

The entire world seemed to twist around her. Auror Moody... in pursuit of Sirius...?

"No," she breathed. "No. No, no, no," she sputtered. "This- This isn't right! Something's not right!" she mumbled desperately. Her eyes were blind, hands flailing in protest wildly. "Sirius would never- not to Lily and James. No, this isn't right!" Her lungs were convulsing now, eyes tight with heat.

Suddenly, the safety barrier her mind had created burst, and images of James and Lily spilled forth in a colossal wave. They crashed over her loudly, a barrage of memories hitting her full force. Her lungs expanded in a second, painfully, like the shock of a sudden winter wind. James in his Quidditch robes. Mornings with Lily in the Great Hall. Snow fights with James. Lily's golden quill scratching in the library light. James' laugh. Lily's freckles.

"How?" she gasped. "_How did this happen?"_

James. She saw his hazel eyes, his messy hair. She heard his clear laughter, his teasing voice. James, her godbrother, her best friend. James. James. _James._

_"They were supposed to be safe!"_ she cried. Her knees threatened to give out. They wobbled beneath her weight as she staggered, catching herself on one of the chairs ungracefully. "You said they would be _safe!" _A trembling wave hit her lungs. She choked and heaved. Her knees buckled momentarily, and they collided with the seat of the chair, thudding loudly against the wooden seat. She could feel her knees bruise. Her limbs seemed to go rigid, joints locking painfully.

"They can't be..." She gulped desperately for air. "They're supposed to be here!_"_

Her arms were trembling now as well. Sirius... Where was Sirius?

"Ms. Delacroix, we need your help _now,"_ Minister Bagnold hissed. Rowan heard her voice above but couldn't see anything. Her eyes were filled with blurring light and images of her best friend. "If Sirius Black did indeed betray the Potters, we need to find him _now_ before he hurts anyone else. We need to find Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Lupin in case he tries to harm them as well."

Rowan's head was shaking wildly. "No," she protested. "There's no way. He would never- You're wrong!" she fought angrily. She thought of Sirius' ready laugh, his easy countenance. "Not Sirius... Not to James. He'd never..." She choked again. "You've got it wrong!"

A gentle but firm hand grasped Rowan's arm. She couldn't look up. She knew it was Dumbledore.

"Rowan, there is no time to mourn now," he whispered. "We can't find Remus - he's left the Shrieking Shack and hasn't responded to any of my Patronuses. Peter either. We have to find Sirius as quickly as possible. You have to tell me - are there any places you can think of that he might go?"

Rowan's mind was a deaf downpour. She tried to search through her memories for Sirius weakly, but she couldn't move past the torrent of James and Lily. She shook her head dumbly.

"I don't... I don't know," she whispered. Dumbledore gave her one last sad, searching look before standing.

"Minister, I'm afraid we must continue our search elsewhere," he said firmly. The woman nodded tersely before turning back to Rowan. Her gaze softened slightly.

"Ms. Delacroix," she called. Rowan could barely move to indicate that she'd heard her. "I'm so very sorry for your loss." Rowan's tears continued to trickle silently.

"Harry," she whispered. The little boy's face emerged softly in her mind's eye. "Where is Harry?"

"While Sirius Black is still missing, we cannot disclose young Mr. Potter's location," the Minister replied softly. "But rest assured that he is safe and unharmed."

Rowan looked up half-blind. "But... how?" she breathed. "How did he escape? If Lily and James..." she trailed off, choking on her words. She couldn't bear to finish the sentence.

"Lord Voldemort has fallen," Dumbledore declared quietly. The Minister flinched slightly at the Dark Lord's name, but Dumbledore made no notice of it.

Rowan's eyes widened, breath catching in her throat. Something in her stomach plummeted. "What? How?" she echoed. "Did James...?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer your questions now. I only have a couple of theories, which I will be sure to explain to you later," he said shortly. He bent down again and offered her a hand, which she weakly took. Her mind was reeling. Her limbs felt so very heavy. Despite his willowy appearance, his grip was quite strong. He pulled her to her feet with relative ease.

"Minister!"

All three individuals jumped at the voice and turned. A green disembodied head floated in the fireplace - Barty Crouch Sr.

"We have located Sirius Black in Covent Garden. He is on foot. Shall we proceed?"

Rowan felt all of her blood drain. Proceed...? She turned to the Minister, horrified.

"Affirmed. Take him into custody - _alive._"

Crouch Sr. nodded gravely, shooting Rowan a wary look - did she pity there? - before disappearing with a pop. The office was once again filled with silence. The Minister then cleared her throat and turned back to Dumbledore.

"I must return to the Ministry. I will keep you informed," she said tersely. She turned back to Rowan, gaze softening again slightly. "I would ask that you remain here, for your own safety and for updates as they come. Good day."

And with that, she turned on her heel and hurried out of Dumbledore's office, leaving Rowan and the Headmaster to the static and silence.

* * *

><p>Mina Surrey ran through the streets of Covent Garden, London, wand drawn. Her cheeks and lungs seared against the cold morning air. Muggles were being ushered away quickly by Muggle and wizarding officials alike. A few Auror cadets saw her with wide stares and stood aside for her, automatically assuming that she was there with Moody. The few who realized that she wasn't supposed to be there were efficiently brushed off - they were no match for her.<p>

She couldn't believe that Moody had left her behind! Her commander had left Headquarters without even informing her of their intentions to pursue Sirius. After she'd arrived at the Ministry and heard the horrifying news of what had happened at Godric's Hollow, she'd left immediately to chase after Sirius alone. She had to hear it from _him_. She wouldn't believe it until she did.

There were a series of sirens and shouts from the gathering crowds, but she couldn't hear any of it. She couldn't hear the Aurors behind her shouting for her to stop. Her mind was deaf with the pounding of her own heart. Fire coursed through her veins, threatening to burst from her eyes, but she pushed it back, walled it off inside the deepest recesses of her heart. She couldn't afford emotion now.

"Mina!"

That voice - she whipped around to see a form slamming into her. She grunted as the man caught her by the arms, panting. She looked up, bewildered. Remus!

"What're you doing here?" she shouted over the raucous. Anger shot through her again. "You need to go home!" She looked over him frantically. His clothes were askew, face gaunt. He barely seemed able to stand. She grabbed him by the waist and steadied him upright. He wobbled slightly under her hold, but his expression remained hard.

"Where is Sirius?" he hissed.

Mina's breath caught. She hadn't seen such darkness in Remus' face since the night that Edgar and Wisteria died. Memories of that terrible night came rushing back, but she shook them away, drawing herself upward.

"He's here - somewhere. We have to find him before Moody!" she declared fiercely. Remus' mouth twitched into something of a snarl before grabbing her hand and running off toward the main square.

Finally, they made it to a clearing, a large public plaza that was empty save for a handful of cowering people - perhaps fifteen - but two men stood out from the rest. One was tall with dark hair, facing off against another man, who was small and round. There were tears trailing down his face.

_What was Peter doing there?_

"Sirius!" she shouted._ Please look at me!_

The taller man didn't turn to face her, but his back stiffened at the sound of her voice.

"Stay back, Mina!" he shouted back. There was a gravel in his voice she wasn't used to - was he crying?

"Sirius, you fucking face us _right now!_" screamed Remus. Mina glanced up at him. He was shaking, fists balled up tight and white. She could nearly see red in his eyes. Sirius bristled visibly.

"Remus, stay the fuck out of this!" Sirius bit back.

Remus snarled. Mina's eyes widened at the sound. He then began moving towards them, slowly at first, like his feet were made of lead. Then he took off at a sprint. Mina started after him with panic in her lungs before being yanked back.

"Surrey, what the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Mina looked up to see Moody glaring furiously down at her. Anger boiled in her stomach.

"I'm your second-in-command!" she roared back. "How dare you leave me behind! That's my-"

"_Exactly!"_ Moody snarled. "He's your boyfriend! How can I expect you to act rationally in this situation? Your showing up here just supports that! Stay _out of this!"__  
><em>

But Mina was already spinning around wildly. Remus had almost reached them. She saw his body laboring under his own weight. But just as he was reaching for his wand, Mina saw Sirius raise his own. Her eyes widened, fear surging up from her gut.

"Remus, no-"

Then there was an explosion, and she was stumbling and falling. Pain shot through her ankle as she stumbled and fell from the rumblings of concrete, brick and smoke. She and Moody grappled over each other, the older man throwing himself over her to shield her from the debris. She heard a series of screams, but her vision was impaired by the smoke and her mentor's limbs. She coughed harshly while groping forward desperately.

"_Help! Somebody get help!"_

Mina finally scrambled to her feet. "_Semita_!" she commanded. The smoke in front of her billowed outward like a large bird had shot through the haze. At the end of the tunnel were Sirius and Remus. Peter was nowhere in sight. Her stomach convulsed sickeningly.

Remus knelt where Peter had been, cradling something in his hands that Mina couldn't see. His face was pale, eyes wide with disbelief. He barely seemed to register where he was. Mina strained her eyes to see what he was holding, but it was much too small.

And Sirius... her heart stopped for a moment painfully. He was _laughing._

But no, laughing wasn't the right word. It was cold, grating. His eyes were wide, mad. His hands were on his face, in his riotous hair. His gums and teeth were bared to the world with fury and spite. Who was this man?

Then her vision began to expand as the remaining smoke cleared, and suddenly, Aurors were surrounding him. She looked to her side and realized that Moody was gone. She looked back up to see him lumbering toward Sirius, wand drawn. Sirius didn't seem to notice, still caught in his momentary hell.

And the bodies - there were bodies everywhere. Sick surged up Mina's throat as she realized that they were the bystanders. None of them moved. Ice shot through her spine.

He had killed them.

The rest was a blur. There were handcuffs and shouts, men forcing Sirius down to his knees. He didn't fight them, just simply continued to laugh in that horrifying way. His voice eventually grew harsh and shrill, but still, he continued. It echoed emptily through the streets. Mina couldn't tear her eyes away from him, but she couldn't move either. Finally, they dragged him to his feet, shoving him down the street and towards her.

As he passed, Sirius' eyes locked with Mina. That mad glint was still there, wide and unseeing. His lips stretched into a broad grin. It was so similar to his usual handsome expressions, but this was so horrifying, so sickening. She knew it would haunt her for years to come.

Who was this man?

"Did you see it, Mina? _Did you see it?_" he crowed. The Aurors pushed him on, but he craned his neck to maintain eye contact with her. She held his gaze numbly, afraid of what would happen if she broke it. A giggle bubbled in his throat, victorious. "I killed that fucking bastard, Minnie! I killed him!"

Mina couldn't respond, nor could she follow. Her feet sunk into the ground beneath her. As his neck strained, his grin remained. She saw him stagger drunkenly along with the Aurors, men and women who had been his comrades and peers. He didn't continue to laugh, but Mina felt that haunting grin embed itself deep in her heart. It echoed hollowly in her stomach. They all Disapparated for the Ministry. The street was silent.

She continued to stand there long after.

When the silence began to settle, a long chime could be heard throughout the streets. Dully, she noted the time - it was 7 a.m., November 1st. She looked upward to the sky, still splashed with faint remnants of pink and yellow. The day had barely begun, and she knew her life was unraveling at the seams with the remnants of night. Despair filled her lungs heavily.

The air was so cold. She could feel the frost creeping down her throat, settling into her bones. Maybe she would freeze from the inside out. She let her head fall back limply. The sky was so very blue.

James and Lily - were they up there somewhere now? She felt as if she were the only person left on earth. She didn't have to look around her to know that only she remained. She simply felt the emptiness of the space around her.

Remus was gone.


	65. Of the Boy Who Lived

**A/N:** HOLD UP. Did you read Ch. 64 first? This is a double post!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 65: Of the Boy Who Lived<strong>

Rowan felt as if she'd been in Dumbledore's office for days. Hours and hours had passed without seeing anyone. Minister Bagnold had sent word an hour after she'd left earlier that morning that Sirius had been apprehended and was now in the Ministry's custody, and Dumbledore departed for the Ministry soon after, leaving Rowan alone in his office. Mina was also safe and being questioned by the Ministry, but Remus was nowhere to be found. She wasn't even sure why she remained there - for what was she even waiting at this point?

Peter was dead.

After the grief that she'd spilled for James and Lily, she almost had none left for poor Peter. It didn't seem right - she should be mourning just as much for the meek man - but her body felt like an empty, used-up shell. She had no more tears to give, no more sobs in her lungs. Her eyes were pink and swollen and heavy. Her throat was sore from weeping. She simply sat in one of Dumbledore's old chairs, drifting in and out of a dreamless sleep.

The sky was now a deep shade of magenta and orange - she glanced dully up at the clock. It was 5:42 p.m. The sun set so early at this time of year. The darkness only seemed to magnify the echoing silence within her.

She wanted to see Mina, to see Remus, but she had no idea how. She didn't even know where Remus was. She couldn't imagine how Mina must be feeling, knowing what Sirius had done. Dumbledore had said that Mina and Remus had been there when they'd arrested Sirius. They'd seen him kill Peter. It all seemed like a terrible dream, like she could wake at any moment. But the warm stinging in her eyes remained, reminding her heavily of the grief they'd already leaked, and she knew bitterly that it was no dream. James and Lily were gone.

Remus - she wanted to see Remus, but she had no idea where he'd gone. Amazingly, tears began to leak again. She was torn between despair and amazement at how she still had any tears left to shed. She wanted Remus, wanted James. Her lungs seized again as she realized again the horrible truth - she would never see her best friend again.

There was the soft sound of creaking from the doorway below, and Rowan turned heavily to face the approaching footsteps. There were two people coming - Dumbledore and-

"Hagrid?"

Rowan sat up as she saw the two tall men enter. The massive Hogwarts groundskeeper greeted her tearily with a small smile then looked down into his arms. Rowan's breath caught.

"Oh my god," she gasped, leaping to her feet.

Harry!

Rowan rushed forward to the gentle giant and held out her arms, where he placed the small bundle. She saw Harry peering up at her with confused eyes, mouth twisting slightly, but then his expression softened with recognition. He gurgled a bit and held his hands up, as if to embrace her. Her chest tightened painfully again.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered. She held him to her tightly, burying her face against him. He was so warm, so whole, so safe - this tiny boy, this last remainder of her dearest friends. Her tears spilled against his chubby cheek, and she pulled away. Her eyes strained to focus through her tears before settling on the red mark on his forehead. She blinked away the tears and frowned. Her fingers shot to the blaring cut.

"What happened to him?" she asked anxiously.

A deep red gash marred his otherwise perfectly soft skin. His forehead bore a new cut, shaped like a lightning bolt. It was bright and harsh against his pale face. Rowan bristled at the sight of it. Her fingers danced along its edges nervously.

Dumbledore's gaze softened. "Please sit down, Rowan. We have much to discuss," he said quietly. Rowan looked back up at him, frowning deeply, before nodding and walking back to the seat she'd occupied nearly all day. She held Harry to her still. Hagrid joined them on a long loveseat, which creaked slightly under his weight.

As Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk, he waved his hand gently, lighting a few lamps around them. The low sun outside was setting on the horizon, leaving long shadows in its wake. The Headmaster's office now glowed a faint yellow, illuminating the tall wizard's face dauntingly.

"As I said earlier, Lord Voldemort has fallen," he began gravely. Rowan nodded, though the very idea still seemed ludicrous. "And as I also said, I have a couple of theories as to what happened last night at Godric's Hollow, and they all revolve around Harry."

Rowan frowned and looked down at her godson. He was blinking sleepily, a couple of fingers in his mouth. Her frown deepened. Nothing was clicking.

"I don't understand," she said quietly. "I'm sorry... What about Sirius? Could you start at the beginning?" she asked confusedly. Her mind was so tired, dragging heavily. She tried desperately to sort out the sequence of events, but it was growing harder and harder to even figure out what day it was. Dumbledore nodded sympathetically.

"As far as we can tell, Sirius betrayed James and Lily's secret to Lord Voldemort, allowing him to enter the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow, sometime right before midnight last night. The Ministry has been interrogating him all day, but..."

Dumbledore's mouth twisted and paused. Rowan held Harry a bit tighter.

"He's refusing to speak to anyone, even me or Mina," he said quietly. Rowan's brow furrowed with confusion. "He says Peter killed them, but that he also killed them. We've tried to get him to explain his claims, but he seems locked in his reticence. All we can do now is wait to see if he begins to talk."

Rowan's stomach churned. None of it made sense. Both he _and_ Peter had killed the Potters...? She pushed the thought away hard and looked back up to Dumbledore for the rest of the story.

"From what we can gather from Godric's Hollow, what happened last night is this: Lord Voldemort entered the house shortly before midnight. Lily ran upstairs and locked herself in Harry's room while James remained behind to hold him off. I'm sure you can piece together what happened after," he said softly.

Rowan's entire body trembled. Images of James and the old house of her childhood playdates flashed through her mind. She saw James' eyes burning angrily and a faceless dark wizard looming over him.

"Lord Voldemort then followed Lily upstairs. This is where all we can do is speculate for now."

Dumbledore paused and sighed. The sounds of soft sniffling were heard from Hagrid. Harry gurgled quietly.

"What I believe happened - why Harry is still alive and Lord Voldemort is not - is that Lord Voldemort made a grave error in killing Lily," he said.

Rowan frowned with confusion. What...?

"Lily Potter was not supposed to die last night... Harry was."

Rowan's grip on Harry tightened further. He whimpered slightly at the heat, but Rowan wouldn't let go. She stared fearfully at Dumbledore to continue.

"But... why?" she breathed. "I don't... He's just a baby..."

Dumbledore watched her carefully. His stare remained passive. She knew he must be thinking something - a man that intelligent, that calculating, must be - but she couldn't read his expression. She felt herself drawing up her own mental walls instinctively.

"I do not know why," he said finally.

Rowan held his gaze. His expression hadn't changed at all, but she felt a decisive barrier between them. She could feel it erupting from the space between them, blocking her out. Surely, he knew more, right? Was he just not telling her?

"You received a prophecy earlier this year," she whispered, "a prophecy about James and Lily - it was about Harry, wasn't it?" She heard Mina's warnings in the back of her mind distantly. She remembered her promise to her friend but found the words slipping through before she could stop herself. She stared defiantly up at the Headmaster, daring him to deny it.

Dumbledore's expression didn't change, still, holding her gaze evenly. Rowan felt anger bubbling at the pit of her stomach. She could feel it threatening to burst at any moment.

"Yes," he finally admitted quietly, "but I cannot tell you yet. I wish I could." He looked down to Harry. Sorrow pulled from his eyes. Rowan watched him warily, as if he, too, would attack her godson.

Bitterness suddenly welled up within her. It bubbled and frothed, coating her stomach acidly. She felt it threaten to push up her throat. Her lips trembled. She looked down at her godson's tiny face. He blinked sleepily up at her, fingers clumsily running over the cut at his forehead. It was still so bright, even in the darkness. It didn't belong there.

"You knew all along that he'd be coming for Harry, didn't you?" she whispered.

She didn't look up to meet his gaze. She couldn't stand to even look at him. The Headmaster she'd always revered - just how little information did he give them? How long had he known?

"You could have prevented all of this," she spat bitterly. She heard Hagrid bristle from the perimeter, but she didn't care. "If you'd told them sooner - if you'd pushed them harder, they would have listened to you! They would have let _you_ be the Secret Keeper, and none of this would have happened!" She could barely comprehend her own words anymore. They made little sense anymore. But the pain in her heart was so excruciating. She wanted him to feel it. She wanted _everyone_ to feel it!

"If you'd just told them the truth, they wouldn't have had to die," she accused angrily. Her voice shook with fury, shoulders trembling. "They'd still be here!"

Silence filled the space between them. With each minute that passed, she felt that invisible wall between them push upward brick by brick. She felt as if she and Harry were the only two people left on earth - alone in their tiny, dark corner of the world. Alone.

"I'm sorry, Rowan," Dumbledore whispered finally.

She shook her head silently, keeping her gaze downward. Her face bowed over Harry's. She wanted to shield them both. Nothing else would harm him as long as she was there to protect him.

"There are things that I have kept to myself, things that I thought unnecessary to tell all of you," the old wizard continued quietly. "But you must believe me when I say that it was not to deceive you. I simply wished to protect all of you from things that I believed were too heavy to bear. If I had known-" She heard his voice quiver with emotion. "If I had known, I would never have let them stay. I would have never stood aside to let Sirius be their Secret Keeper."

Rowan didn't know how to respond, so she kept her eyes cast downwards at Harry's now sleeping face. She still felt the anger seething in her stomach, but it was quieter now, like the fizzling remnants of fire.

"What happens now?" she whispered.

Dumbledore paused again, and Rowan felt the knot in her stomach tighten.

"I must take Harry... to live with Lily's sister Petunia."

Rowan's breath left her.

"What?" she hissed. She clutched Harry to her chest instinctively, head jerking up towards the wizard again. "You can't be serious! Do you have any idea what those people are like? They'll put him through hell!" She thought of all of Lily's stories about her sister Petunia and the terrible man that she'd married. Lily had been distraught at her sister's rejection, but Rowan held no sympathy for the woman. As far as she was concerned, anyone who could reject Lily's love deserved no kindness from her. She'd imagined numerous times the harsh words she'd have for Petunia Dursley were she to ever meet her. "I'm his godmother! He should be with me!"

Dumbledore grimaced but shook his head. "If this were under normal circumstances, then yes, that would be right," he said softly, "but there are still Death Eaters out there who will be looking for Harry, and no matter how strong of a witch you are, you can't always be there to protect him; however, Lily's last protective spell will remain strong as long as Harry is in the custody of one of her blood relatives. It is safest for him if he goes with them."

Rowan's head was shaking dumbly, face pressed against Harry's. He slept soundly, but her tears fell wetly around them. She'd lost James, Lily, Peter and Sirius - and now she was losing Harry too! She couldn't believe it, didn't want to! How was this happening? When would she wake up from this terrible dream?

"I'm so sorry, Rowan," Dumbledore said sadly.

Rowan continued to rock Harry quietly, muffling her sobs in his blanket. She could feel the foundations of her world crumbling around her. Her best friends were gone, and now here godson was leaving her too. James - _James._ She imagined his bright eyes, his boyish grin. He had left her behind _again._

"This is so unfair," she sobbed. James and Lily were leaving her to walk on alone, and now, Sirius and Peter, too. "Why are all of you leaving me alone?"

Minutes passed - she didn't know how many. When she lifted her head again, the sun had completely set, leaving the room awash in blacks and blues and faint yellow light. Dumbledore's eyes were dry, but his head was bowed contritely. Hagrid could still be heard sniffling from the loveseat. Rowan wiped some of the now cold tears from her face, too exhausted now to be concerned about appearances. She looked up at the Headmaster, who had raised his gaze to meet hers.

"When does he go?" she whispered hoarsely.

Dumbledore's mouth twisted sadly, and she knew the answer. "We'll be taking him tonight - as soon as possible."

Rowan nodded and then looked back down at Harry. He was asleep still, lips parted slightly. The red cut on his forehead remained fresh and bright against his skin. It was nothing compared to the injuries she and her comrades had sustained over the past years of war, but it seemed so much harsher against his tiny face. She had wanted to fight so that he would never know such injuries, and yet, he'd lost perhaps more than they all had without even being able to utter a word in protest. She felt the tremors in her lungs again before swallowing them away.

Dumbledore saw the resolution in her face and nodded to Hagrid, who stood with a trembling sigh. The loveseat creaked beneath his weight as he shifted to his feet and moved to Rowan. She stood to meet him but held Harry close to her a moment longer.

She looked down at his face and tried to memorize every line and curve. She saw both James and Lily in his face and knew that this was the last piece of them - the most precious piece - that was left in this world. When would she see him again?

She felt eerily still as the giant groundskeeper approached her. She kept her gaze on Harry's face, soaking in every detail of his form. This precious child - he was such a good boy, such a sweet boy. There were so many things she wouldn't be able to tell him, to share with him.

As she felt his weight being lifted from her arms, panic shot through again. Her lungs spasmed and seized, gasping for air as she saw his tiny form being pulled from her. Her fingers continued to grip onto his blanket of their own accord before finally being pulled from her grasp. She nearly doubled over as her stomach clenched painfully but willed her eyes to remain on Harry. Hagrid's tears had also begun to fall again in large, rolling drops, but he silently took the precious bundle from her into his gentle arms. He looked to Dumbledore once more - he nodded - before turning for the door. He hesitated, looking back at Rowan's trembling form. Rowan burned the final image of Harry into her mind before Hagrid turned away, and with a few long strides, he was out the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

Rowan let the weight crash into her painfully. She didn't hear Dumbledore's consoling words or feel the old wizard's long arms circle around her. She clenched her eyes closed, shut off her ears. The faintest of light, the softest of sounds - it was too much to bear. She wanted to be swallowed by the darkness, to not feel, to not see. Her entire body shook beyond her control. She couldn't stand, couldn't see the room around her. She wept unabashedly, her sobs and wails coming in a torrential downpour. They seemed to grip her very core, whipping her innards to and fro, like the winds of a storm. Somewhere, faintly, she heard Dumbledore muttering a spell. It sounded like the soft whispering of a breeze, and then a cool wave overtook her. The breath in her lungs seemed to smoke away. Her limbs seemed to drift out, like she was floating in the cool waters of the ocean.

"Do you know what they're calling him - what they're calling Harry?"

That voice - it was so distant. Did she know it? She shook her head dumbly. No - what were they calling him? She could feel the sun on her face.

"They're calling him the Boy Who Lived."

Rowan felt her lips twitch upward into a smile. _The Boy Who Lived - _oh, she hoped he truly lived. She hoped that he knew how very much she loved him, how much he was loved by them all. She hoped he was happy.

She was floating, gasping, the warm air of the ocean filling her lungs. And then there was white. So much white. And she was gone.


	66. Of the Empty Shoreline

**A/N:** There's a lot in this one. It's a little scattered in tone, but I wanted to get it out in one go. Sorry if it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

So many reviews! YEEE! Unfortunately, I have a deadline again and am freaking exhausted, so I'm gonna respond next time. Is that okay? Thanks to all of you who have left me feedback: **wickedgrl123, sarahmichellegellarfan1, ****missalex3030, ****WalkingInAWinterWonderlandxx, ****crazy-acting, ****casualmoose.**

**Lauren:** Thank you so much! It's always amazing to hear from another reader. I'm really excited about Rowan's role in the third installment, so I really hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think in the future too!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 66: Of the Empty Shoreline<strong>

The next two - or was it three? - days passed in a gray blur. Rowan woke to find herself in her flat, the room swaying sickeningly around her, like the remnants of a dream. As the memories of the days before came rushing back, her stomach had seized and lurched, surging up her throat in a bitter clear splatter. But she hadn't eaten - couldn't remember the last time she had. There had been nothing. It seemed very fitting in a way.

She remembered receiving an owl from Dumbledore sometime during that haze about Sirius - they had sentenced him without trial to a lifetime in Azkaban. There had been no hearings, no testimonies from friends, no visitation, no chance of parole. She wasn't sure if she would have been able to go even if they _had_ allowed visitors to see him. What could she possibly say? She didn't even have any anger anymore. She wasn't sure what she had, but there was certainly very little of it. Of everything.

The hours and days were spent falling in and out of that gray haze of sleep and waking. She couldn't make right of what was up or down or dream. She'd heard some knocking at one point - or at least, she thought she had - but hadn't found the strength to answer the door. It wasn't Remus - he had a key - and as far as she was concerned, if it wasn't him, she didn't care.

Remus - where was Remus? When she'd steadied her stomach from the onslaught of nausea upon waking, she'd sent out a desperate, weak Patronus to find him. She'd never had difficulty in mustering the spell - she'd always found it amazing that anyone did - but it had taken nearly ten tries before she'd been able to summon even the faintest of silver. When she'd finally sent something off, she wasn't even sure if it was its usual wolf. She wasn't sure what it was. Had it even reached him?

_Where are you?_

The words were scribbled and carved into the diary he'd given her over and over. She'd torn through page after page blindly, scratching the words incoherently until they leaked and bled with her tears. Each time she'd written the words, she'd expected his own neat scrawl to spread across the pages. _I'm here, I'm here._

Regardless, he never responded. Had Sirius killed him too? Had they simply missed it? Her eyes had burned again at the thought, exhaustion overtaking her once more. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to be awake. Every fiber of her being screamed to join James and Lily in the afterlife.

But finally, on what was apparently the fifth day, she was forced from her stupor with a loud banging.

"_Rowan Delacroix, you answer this door right now!"_

Rowan's body jerked at the sound, eyes snapping open at the familiar voice.

Grief took her again. How could she face her? She grimaced and buried her face in her pillow, remaining silent and rolling over so that her back faced the door. Mina would leave eventually. She just needed to wait it out.

"_Rowan, if you don't open this fucking door, I will break it down!"_

Rowan's eyes clenched shut. Mina was the _last _person she wanted to see right now. She couldn't bear to see her friend after all that had happened. She didn't want to see anyone in the Order - no one who could remind her of James and Lily.

BANG.

Rowan jolted up to see that her door had been cracked in half and was now hanging precariously on a single hinge, swaying limply in the frame with splinters and chunks of wood sprayed about. Mina stood in the doorway, fuming visibly, wand brandished in a tight fist. Her face was bright red with fury. One of Rowan's nosier neighbors peered over her shoulder, face awash with shock. Rowan blanched.

"Miss, what do you think you're-"

Mina spun around on the nosy wizard, eyes flaring. He cowered under her force.

"If you know what's good for you, _you will_ _mind your own fucking business_," she snarled. The wizard nodded rapidly and scurried back into his flat, slamming the door shut behind him. Rowan felt for him momentarily before shrinking away as Mina turned her anger back on her. She stomped into Rowan's flat, waving her wand behind her to reform the door, creating a barrier between the outside world and Rowan's small prison.

As she approached, Rowan's fear melted away at the sight of the deep lines and redness of Mina's eyes. Her clothes hung on her frame loosely, as if she hadn't eaten in days. Rowan noted dumbly somewhere at the back of her mind that she probably looked the same.

But just as Mina reached her, she realized that she _should_ be afraid.

_Slap._

Rowan's hand reached up hesitantly to feel the heat in her cheek. It stung hotly, face whipped to the side. _Mina had slapped her._

"You _fucking bitch,_" she seethed. Rowan couldn't meet her gaze, still in shock from the sudden strike. Her skin tingled painfully, ears still ringing from the loud noise of flesh on flesh. "Do you have _any _idea how worried I've been?"

Rowan's stomach lurched, guilt trickling over her slowly. She hazarded a glance towards the brunette, breath catching as she saw the angry tears in her friend's eyes. They burned deeply into her.

"I've been here everyday for the past five days trying to find you, and you've been here all fucking along!" she shouted. "We're floundering, Rowan! All of us! And the only person I wanted to see - the only person who could _possibly understand_ - was you, holed up in here selfishly, too absorbed in her own self-pity to even _think_ of anyone else!"

Rowan's lips trembled. Five days... It had been five days since she'd seen Harry disappear with Hagrid into the night, and the world had continued to spin on without her. There were still people out there who needed her - people like her mother, like Mina. Mina's words cut into her deeply.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Tears broke through. She bowed her head with shame.

"No, I'm not fucking done yet. You are going to hear me out. I'm not done yet!" Mina plowed on angrily. Rowan's eyes clenched shut guiltily. "I spent an entire day in Ministry custody, being questioned and interrogated about things I didn't understand - that I _still _don't understand! Then I found out that Harry had been taken away before I could even say goodbye. And now, Sirius is gone, and I can't see him, and James and Lily and Peter are gone too-" A sob broke through, and Rowan looked up to see Mina kneeling beside her on the floor. Her hands grasped her knees, head bent and trembling. "And all I wanted was to see you and Remus, but no one knows where Remus is, and I couldn't get a hold of you, and I..." she trailed off. Her shoulders were shaking now. "I don't know what to do, Rowan!"

Rowan's own lungs seized. She hadn't even thought of Mina over the past five days, but she'd been on the other side of that door all along, afraid and alone. Shame forced its way down her throat, and she pushed the blankets off of her, falling to the floor next to Mina. She threw her arms around her and let her friend's trembling form soak into her own. Mina's hands reached up and gripped Rowan's shoulders almost painfully, burying her face in her neck wetly. An otherworldly wail tore from the brunette's lips as she trembled and shook against her. Rowan felt the sound tear a sob from her own gut as well.

"I'm sorry! _I'm sorry!"_ she gasped.

The two women cried and held each other for a very long time until their sobs calmed into hiccoughs, which eventually evened out shallowly. They rocked against each other, fingers gripping the other's shoulders desperately. Finally, the tremors stopped, and the tears ceased to flow. Rowan pulled away hesitantly, wiping the sticky mixture of tears and hair from her face with mild frustration. Mina smiled weakly and did the same.

"I'm sorry, Mina," Rowan whispered again. "I didn't realize... I should have realized. I was just so... I didn't want to see anyone, but that was selfish of me."

Mina's lips twitched. "Yeah, it was," she said, "but it's okay." She looked hard at Rowan searchingly. "We need you to come back to the Order. Everyone - we need you there."

Rowan nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, I will. I'm sorry," she apologized again. She thought of the Weasleys and the Longbottoms and Moody and Kingsley - there were so many faces she hadn't thought of for what seemed like years. Had it really only been five days? Another face flashed behind her eyes. Her throat caught. "Have you seen Remus?"

Mina frowned. "No, I thought- if anyone were to have seen him-" she sputtered with confusion. Her brows furrowed deeper. "Have you really not heard from him?"

Rowan shook her head sadly. "No, I don't know where he is," she admitted with some shame. The implications of his absence burned into her - if he was okay, then why wasn't he there with her?

But Mina didn't scowl like Rowan had expected. Instead, she smiled weakly.

"Well, I'm sure he'll turn up when he's ready, right?" she suggested. Her expression said that she wasn't sure if she believed her own words. Rowan wasn't sure if she preferred her usual reaction to this one, but she nodded all the same.

"What now?" she whispered. Mina's smile faltered. It resounded deafeningly between them.

_What now?_

"Come back to the Order," Mina said quietly. "Everyone is waiting for you."

Rowan nodded. Remus could wait. For now, she needed to see her comrades - her friends.

* * *

><p>It was cold, a bleary gray November afternoon. There was no sun, but there was no rain either. Everything just seemed very colorless.<p>

A large congregation dressed in black robes stood amongst the forest of gravestones, in front of one in particular. On its face was carved, "_In Loving Memory of James and Lily Potter_." A group of four women stood at the front of the gathering. The cries from the eldest - an elegant older woman with graying hair - came in heaving, shrill wails. They echoed throughout the gathered crowd. Many flinched at the sound. Her hands gripped onto the shoulders of a young woman with long black hair, who held her tightly, tears quietly running down her own face.

Three days had passed since Rowan had returned to the Order with Mina - an entire week since James and Lily Potter had been murdered and, subsequently, a week since the fall of the Dark Lord.

All of the Wizarding World had rejoiced. The streets of every Wizarding village across England had been full of nonstop celebrations, finally winding down with the need to continue on with normal life. As Death Eaters were arrested left and right, every wizard and witch seemed to be overcome with an unparalleled joy - finally, the Wizarding World was safe again!

But not all celebrated.

The Order of the Phoenix, though just as relieved as the rest, was full of grief, for it had lost four of its brightest members. Peter Pettigrew and the Potters' deaths were not overlooked in the light of the Dark Lord's fall, and Sirius Black's betrayal was a harsher stab into their hearts than could have ever been expected - after all, who would have ever suspected _Sirius?_ It seemed like a terrible trick, a cruel game. But perhaps the cruelest aspect of it all was that it seemed completely true. And with him carted away to Azkaban in silence, there was no longer any way for them to find out.

_What now?_

It was a question that had echoed in Rowan's heart many times since Mina had come storming into her flat, shaking her awake and pulling her back into the sunlight. Despite the many years fought for this day, now that their mission had been achieved, an empty feeling of aimlessness set into all of them. Perhaps it was because of the price that had been paid. Rowan and Mina weren't really able to call it a "victory" - for who had really won in this war? They certainly hadn't.

The thought whispered in the back of Rowan's mind once again as she held her godmother's trembling form upright, standing in front of James and Lily's grave at the head of this large crowd. Anger bubbled at the back of her throat. It didn't seem fair. It didn't seem fair at all! Why did _they_ have to be the ones to sacrifice their happiness for the good of the Wizarding community? After all that they'd given up and lost, the war had taken much more from them it seemed than anyone else. Every Order member had given up a tremendous amount to win this war. She thought of the Prewetts and the Potters, the Bones children and poor Derek McKinnon. Rowan stared bitterly around them at the faces of the numerous witches and wizards who had come to pay their respects, people who had remained blissfully unaware of their struggles.

_Cowards_, she spat internally.

The service had ended, but Julia, Carole, Rowan, and Mina remained standing there. It was amazing that they had been able to bring Julia out at all - the woman had been inconsolable, nearly catatonic, and now, it seemed that the weight of all of her grief was pouring out.

Finally, her cries subsided, and they were able to pull her away so that others could pay their respects. Carole and Alfred hovered over her quietly, ushering away well-wishers with harsh looks.

Rowan stood next to the grave to receive the condolences from these seemingly random witches and wizards. She recognized many of them - after all, the Wizarding world was very small - but they all looked like strangers to her after all that had transpired. None of them knew what they'd gone through. None of them knew what they'd given up to keep them safe. They'd all continued with their lives, hiding and running away as the Order had fought and sacrificed. She felt herself growing more and more bitter with every person that approached.

"Rowan."

Rowan looked up, realizing that she'd been glaring at the ground. Her eyes widened with surprise.

"Lyall," she breathed.

Lyall Lupin stood in front of her, smiling sadly. His dark robes hung on his frame perhaps more loosely than they had the last time she saw him. It seemed that all of her friends were looking that way recently. She rushed forward to greet him, and he swept her up into a tight embrace. His arms were so long, so very reminiscent of Remus'. She choked back a few tears as she thought of her still-missing boyfriend before pulling away and smiling up at the older man.

"How are you?" he asked quietly. His lips quirked up dryly. "I suppose that's a stupid question, isn't it?" he noted.

Rowan smiled weakly. "I'm okay. How are you? It feels like it's been a long time," she said. She thought back and realized guiltily that it had been about two months since she'd last seen him.

"I'm fine, thank you," he said kindly. His face then melted sadly. "I'm so sorry about James and Lily. I-" He choked slightly before clearing his throat. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Rowan nodded. "Thank you. Yes, I'm okay. Mina's okay," she said softly. She then turned the question over in her head. "Have you seen Remus?"

Lyall shook his head sadly. "No, I haven't heard from him since... well, a week ago," he replied. He gave Rowan a morose smile. "I was hoping to see him here, but I can see you haven't seen him either."

Rowan's lips twisted angrily. Lyall's eyes widened with surprise.

"I-I..." she stammered. She felt the anger that had been bubbling in her gut start to boil upward. She turned quickly so that the rest of the gathering couldn't see her face begin to fight off her slowly building rage. She felt the heat pushing up from her stomach and into her throat. She swallowed it down desperately - she couldn't break down now. She couldn't do this in front of Lyall, in front of all of these people!

A hand laid on her shoulder gently. She looked up to see Lyall looking down at her sadly, mouth twisted. She saw Remus' dark expressions shadowed there, and her throat tightened again despairingly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered simply. Rowan's lips trembled, but she nodded slowly. He pulled her in again tightly. She buried her face in his dark robes, both calling out silently for Remus.

* * *

><p>"It's late. Shouldn't you be heading home?"<p>

Rowan looked up to see her mother looking down at her concernedly. She was sitting at the kitchen table at Delacroix Manor, head on her arms. The Order and their friends had gathered there after the funeral to quietly reminisce about the Potters and Peter. Though a few still remained, Rowan had needed to withdraw for a moment. There had been too many people around today, and she was still overwhelmed by even the simplest of interactions.

Rowan looked up at her mother wistfully. Her hair was still peppered, but there was much more white now than there had been the year before. Her chest tightened - how many more years would she have with her before she, too, left her behind?

"Can I stay here the night?" she asked weakly.

Carole's expression melted sadly. She sat down next to Rowan and wrapped an arm around her tightly. Rowan wrapped her arms around her mother's waist and buried her face in her neck.

"Of course, you can," Carole whispered. "You can always come back here."

Rowan shuddered slightly, holding onto her mother. "How many people are still here?" she asked softly.

"I think it's just Mina and Isaac now," she answered. Rowan nodded.

"Is Julia here?"

"She's upstairs sleeping," Carole answered. Rowan nodded again. She then remembered something from a few months before, sitting up slowly.

"Are you still going to renovate the house?"

Carole frowned slightly, thoughtfully. Rowan could see her thoughts trickling down her face and mused that she must have received her thoughtful expression from her mother. She could see her turning the thoughts over in her head and wondered what was so difficult to answer.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "probably starting in a month or so."

Rowan nodded. "So you've decided on something then," she urged. "It's just a renovation, right? I can't imagine any need for you to add on to the house." She tried to imagine the already sprawling manor expanding and nearly shuddered. It was already an excessive relic - increasing its size seemed almost sinful in a way.

"Not adding on, per se," Carole responded slowly, "but it will certainly be a big change. Your old room might change as well."

Rowan frowned. "What?" she asked confusedly. "I thought you were just going to be taking out a few walls and adding in some windows or something. How big of a change are you thinking?"

Carole stopped to think again quietly, lips twitching with some strain. Rowan's frown deepened. Was her mother planning on tearing part of the house down? Despite not being entirely fond of the manor, she couldn't stand the thought of something so drastic happening to it. After, their family history was ingrained into the very bricks of this house.

"I want to show you something," she said finally, standing to her feet. Rowan eyed her warily but followed her out of the kitchen and into the library quietly.

When they reached the library, Carole made a beeline for her cherry desk and opened a large drawer. Rowan had a vague sense of deja vu. In it was a pile of documents and folders. She pulled a scroll out, wrapped in a long red cord. Untying it gingerly, she unraveled it and laid it flat on the desk, smoothing out the crisp sheet gracefully. Rowan peered over the parchment. Her eyes widened - it was a floor plan.

"I had wanted to wait to tell you until the documentation with the Ministry went through, but I suppose now is as good of a time as any," Carole said softly. "There have been so many children left parent-less during this war... And even if they have Hogwarts, they'll need a place to come home to in the summers. And we have so much room here... It just seems like the right thing to do, doesn't it?"

Rowan's eyes scanned over the various rooms drawn out so intricately - bedrooms and nurseries, playrooms and desks for studying. Thin lines of ink sprawled out on the paper. It was all planned out already. She imagined the Marauder's Map from her Hogwarts days and envisioned tiny footprints dancing across the page. She thought of Harry, left to the Muggle world alone. Her throat tightened painfully. She pushed the thought away and looked back to her mother, eyes burning with tears.

"It's brilliant!" she beamed. "So this is why you didn't want to take part in the apothecary! How long have you been planning this?"

Carole smiled sheepishly - it made her look many years younger. "About a year now - it was just a thought at the beginning, but now with the war over... and Harry - there are so many children like him." She cleared her throat and blinked away some tears. "I've already talked it over with Alfred and have asked him to co-partner with me in this. We'll both run the orphanage and have joint ownership. He thinks we should call it the James and Lily Potter Home for Children."

Rowan's tears nearly spilled over. Her heart ached painfully. She imagined the now-dark house alit with sunlight and tiny laughter. She thought of her mother chasing after children, of Alfred finally teaching like he'd always wanted. She nodded blindly and threw her arms around Carole. She had never felt so proud, so grateful to have this woman as her mother.

"It's brilliant, Mum," she breathed. "You're brilliant. It's amazing!"

Carole hugged her back tightly. Rowan still felt that emptiness at the pit of her stomach, but it was relieved slightly knowing that her mother was still there to catch her. She prayed silently that she would be there for many years to come.

* * *

><p>Rowan and Carole made their way back down the winding halls of Delacroix Manor. Rowan smiled amusedly to herself - the future James and Lily Potter Home for Children! She very much liked the sound. For the first time in what felt like months, warmth spread through her chest happily. As they approached the kitchen, however, Rowan caught a glimpse of black robes and coppery hair.<p>

"Whatcha doing?" Rowan asked amusedly. Mina jumped and quickly put a finger to her lips.

"Sh!" she hushed. She gestured for Rowan to join her before turning back to the crack in the door. Rowan moved forward quickly to see what the fuss was.

Isaac and Alfred were talking in hushed voices. Rowan cursed silently - Alfred's face was turned away from her, so all she could see was Isaac. Though he'd become more expressive around them, he still remained stoic in comparison to most, and it was still very hard to read him. But she saw something new in his face - was it hope?

"_Sonoitus_," Mina whispered, pointing her wand to her ear. Rowan followed suit, and suddenly the men's conversation came clear. Unfortunately, it seemed that they were catching the very end of it.

"-but in light of all that has happened recently, I just had to tell you."

"I... I don't know what to say. I mean... Well, I-"

Isaac smiled sadly but shook his head. "You need not say anything. I did not expect you to respond with any particular answer. I simply wanted to you to know." He smiled again and then reached forward and squeezed Alfred's hand. Rowan's eyes widened at the small gesture - for Isaac, it spoke volumes and decibels.

She then panicked - he was approaching the door! Before she and Mina could hurry away, he had opened it. All they could do was pretend as if they had just walked down the hall, but Rowan knew that they looked very awkward, at best. Isaac stared blankly at them. He blinked with surprise for a moment before smiling quietly.

"I think I will head home," he said kindly, knowingly. "Thank you very much for your hospitality again. I will see you on Monday, yes?"

Rowan stared dumbly and then nodded. "Yes," she blurted. She cleared her throat. "Yes, Monday. Yes."

Isaac smiled again and then turned to leave. Carole followed to see him out. Rowan turned to see Mina smiling sheepishly at her. She then turned towards the kitchen. Alfred still looked in shock, standing dazedly in the middle of the kitchen. His eyes were unfocused, head tilted back slightly. Rowan gazed warily at him before turning back to Mina. They nodded to each other and continued down the hall, leaving Alfred to his thoughts.

* * *

><p>The next day was bright, blindingly so. Rowan woke steadily in her childhood bedroom, eyes still sore and puffy from the day before. For a long time, she didn't move from her bed, simply laid there and absorbed all of the memories that came with it. Her mother's words from the day before crept back slowly. This wouldn't be her room anymore for much longer. She felt a bittersweet ache but smiled still.<p>

Around her room were countless reminders of her childhood with James. Her shelves were littered with silly photos of their past selves, and each childhood toy seemed to hold a memory of the two of them together. Her eyes stung again with tears as they fell upon her old training broomstick - she and James had spent countless afternoons racing around their yards together on those tiny broomsticks - but the tears didn't fall. She swallowed them back wetly and felt the smallest of smiles pull at her lips.

He was gone, yes, but how fortunate was she to have known him so well?

Her chest was tight, almost painful. Her breath came raggedly once as the grief trickled over her momentarily, but then it was gone. She felt it at the pit of her stomach still, but she realized with great pride that, although it would always remain, she could carry on. Isn't that exactly what James had wanted? Isn't that why he hadn't let her hold their Secret?

She rose from her bed and breathed deeply, letting the cold morning air sear through her lungs. The sun was so very bright.

* * *

><p>As Rowan walked up the stairs to her flat, the sunlight spilled in from the windows. She walked slowly, measuredly, allowing each step to resonate with the bright light. It seemed to follow her everywhere she went that day. As she approached her door, she simply stood outside of it for a moment, letting its image wash over her.<p>

She hadn't really been home for the past few days since Mina had pulled her back out of her wallowing self-pity. She'd returned a few times for clothes and toiletries, but beyond that, she'd spent nearly every moment with her family and Mina. As she finally reached her own space though, she felt the exhaustion of the past week settle into her bones steadily.

It felt as if several lifetimes had passed in just two weeks. So many things had happened. So many people had come and gone. She allowed her thoughts to trail to Sirius for the first time in days. She still couldn't wrap her head around all of the events that revolved around him. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed like a a cruel trick had been played on all of them or that she had fallen into an alternate dimension without realizing it; for surely, the Sirius Black that they had all known and loved would never have given up his best friends - not to the man who had killed his brother or taken so many of their comrades.

She shook her head and reached for her keys - there was no use in thinking it over now. He was beyond her reach. She was limp, floating listlessly on the surface.

As she entered her flat quietly, a soft flash of light hair caught her eye, and she stilled. There was that heavy presence, returned once more. She recognized the sudden burden in her heart. She turned.

Remus was sitting at her table, just like he always had.

He didn't say anything, just gazed dazedly at her and stood quietly. The wooden surfaces creaked against each other stickily as the chair slid back. He seemed to glow in the bright autumn light. His pale skin seemed more translucent than ever, almost like a ghost.

Rowan couldn't move. Remus. _Remus._ How long had it been? Had he ever been there at all? Was he simply a figment of her imagination, a thoroughly complex character developed in her own mind? For surely, if he were real, he would have been there with her all along, right? She wouldn't have had to go through all of this alone... right?

Her eyes trailed over his lean form. His clothes were askew and hanging baggily, face unshaven. It looked as if he hadn't been home in days - where had he been?

He stepped towards her.

"Rowan."

It was a burden. She felt it so significantly. She felt her hand raise to her chest vaguely, as if to help hold the weight off of her heart. Had it always been there? It seemed to seep into her blood, weighing down her limbs with its density. With every step he took, her heart labored more and more, thudding with ever more strain. How had she never noticed?

But then his face was so close to hers, hands gripping hers gently. She couldn't fight him - did she want to? She felt herself being limply guided to her table, where he seated her in the chair that stood across from the one he'd occupied. She sank against its hard surface weakly. He knelt in front of her, hands still grasped in his.

"Rowan," he whispered. His light eyes trailed over her face slowly. He seemed to be in pain, searching with great effort for something he couldn't identify. She still couldn't seem to find rhythm over her lungs. He'd looked at her like this before, right? He'd held her hands like this before, right?

And yet, as she looked at him, he looked so unfamiliar, so strange, like a man washed up onto the shore after years at sea. It certainly felt like years since she'd last seen him. A week - it had only been a week, she reminded herself. And yet...

She felt her lips tremble.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus' eyes crinkled with confusion. They scoured her face, as if disbelieving that she'd spoken. His mouth twitched with hurt, but it meant very little to her.

"Why did you come back? Why now?" She felt her brow furrow. It seemed like an absurd dream. But as she thought harder and harder - reminded herself over and over again that he was _supposed _to be there - the confusion pulled her in deeper and deeper. He was _supposed_ to be there - why did it feel wrong that he was?

"Do you not want me here?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," she breathed. The truth seemed to seep from her lungs slowly without her even realizing it had been there. "I wanted you here before, but now, I don't know. Do _you_ want to be here?"

There was that stillness again between them. She felt as if she were floating on a silent sea. No birds, no waves - just silence.

That's all that had ever really been between them, wasn't it?

"All this time, I thought I did. I thought _you _did. I mean, you said you did, so it must have been true, right? That's what I kept telling myself," she continued on, giving up on his answer. She didn't know where her voice was coming from, but it continued to trickle and spill out on its own. "And that's what you kept telling me. But really, who were you trying to convince?"

Remus still hadn't spoken. His mouth moved slightly, straining, but it didn't open to respond. He simply gazed at her in that guarded, searching way. Perhaps he'd always been looking at her that way.

"I thought I knew - I thought I knew you," she breathed. The words left her aching. "But each time something happens, I think I know what you'll do, what you'll say - but you always do something different. So now I have to ask myself: do I really know you at all?"

Remus' mouth twisted painfully. Rowan saw that small scar at his upper lip move as well. It was so familiar - she'd seen it a thousand times - and yet, maybe she'd never seen it all.

"You've been gone for so long. You were gone, a-and James and Lily and Sirius and Peter - they're gone now too," she said bitterly. She felt a tremor thrum through her softly. It seemed that the weight in her heart had rolled hard against her chest, vibrating through her limbs. "Harry, too - they took him away. They're gone, and then you were gone, leaving me to face all of this on my own. I thought you'd be here to help carry me through this, but you weren't here."

There it was - that burden.

"Have I been in love with this idea of you for so long that I never really saw you for who you were?" she whispered. The words smoked from her lips like the cold mist of winter. She suddenly felt very cold.

Remus' expression was searching, almost empty. She felt it in her own features as well. Had they been blindly groping through the darkness for something meaningful and simply projecting their own desires onto the other out of a shallow sense of nostalgia? The thought echoed and emptied out hollowly at the pit of her stomach. His lips twitched upward into a very sad smile.

"Maybe," he finally whispered.

Rowan's lungs seemed to fill with hot air slowly, expanding beneath her breasts and pressing warmly against her ribs. She released the air slowly and felt her lungs deflate limply. Her arms felt the same. She felt her lips twitch upwards.

"I'm the greatest of hypocrites, aren't I?" she whispered. She laughed breathily, bitterly. "All this time, I wondered if you'd been projecting your insecurities and loneliness onto me, but I'd been doing it too. I'd been holding onto something that was never there to begin with." His lips twitched upward again.

"Maybe," he repeated.

Rowan felt something wet fall into her limp hands.

"You can never give me a straight answer, can you?" she gasped. She smiled bitterly and bowed her head. Even now, she didn't want him to see her cry. Did he deserve it?

"Where were you?" she hissed through her teeth. She couldn't look at him. The anger reemerged, scalding up the back of her throat. It startled her with its intensity, but perhaps it had been there all along, waiting for its chance to break through - waiting for him to meet her expectations of disappointment.

But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

"You were supposed to be here!" she spat. Her teeth ground against each other. Her mouth twisted and contorted with her bubbling rage. "You were supposed to be here to help us through this! But you weren't here! Mina and I were all alone!" Her tears were falling freely now.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He paused, and the silence filled the space between them. It felt substantial, like an immeasurable distance that couldn't be breached. He was the distant sun on the horizon.

She'd known him for ten years, been with him for five, fought in the war for three by his side. There were so many memories, so many losses. Every injury, every death that came - had he been there for any of it?

"You're sorry," she echoed disdainfully. The answer came clearly. She slipped beneath the surface. She could feel the understanding escape from her lips like distant bubbles. "You're sorry. You're sorry. You're always sorry!" She mocked angrily. Her head jerked in a furious rhythm with the deafening pounding in her head. "You're always _sorry,_ but you never fucking change. You always disappear when I need you the most! So what? _Where were you?_" She finally looked back up to meet his gaze, piercing into him. She hoped he might burn under her glare.

Remus' eyes scanned over her face slowly, almost blankly. She felt her anger peak again at the lack of recognition there. Had he even heard her? Had her words - her heartbreak - sunk into him at all? Did she know this man?

"I don't know," he finally said softly. His voice was the scraping of sand - unused for many days. "I don't know where I was. Here and there - nowhere in particular. I just..." His gaze wavered weakly for a moment, like a flickering of a candle. "They're all gone," he whispered. His breath seemed to whisper away. She imagined he might fade away with it.

Rowan's own heart seemed to stop. She felt herself sinking slowly, deeply, to the bottom of this reality. She felt the light of the sun fading distantly above the surface as she sunk deeper and deeper. She released the last of her air.

_They were all gone._

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. She saw his hands reaching for hers again. Their fingers were so long. Those tiny nicks and silvery scars danced along their lengths.

She pulled her hands away.

"Don't," she started. His hands froze. Her shoulders curled up to her ears slowly under the weight of the burdening sea around her. It was too heavy. All of it was too heavy.

"Don't," she repeated. "I can't- Please just-" Her breath began coming raggedly again. She was drowning.

She had never known him at all.

"I was still here," she grit out. "Mina and I were still here, and we needed you." She choked as she felt her lungs begin to quiver, collapsing under the pressure. He was drowning her. "I've always needed you, but..."

The water was crushing her.

"Just go," she whispered. She pulled her hands in and wrapped her arms around herself. It was so very cold here, down below.

He was drowning her.

"I can't- I can't do this... I can't do this anymore," she gasped. The water seeped into her lungs. She choked.

"Just go," she begged. "Just... _Please._"

Her eyes were clenched shut, but she could still feel the weight of Remus' hands hanging in the air in front of her. She rocked herself blindly. It was so heavy, so painfully, significantly heavy. She just wanted it to stop - she wanted to breathe. She wanted to sleep.

Finally, she heard him stand, a soft whisper of feet against wood. His presence pulled her like the receding tide. She heard his feet patter quietly to the door, and then he paused - the swell of a wave. She knew he had turned back to look at her. She awaited the collapse of the wave upon her. She kept her eyes closed, anticipating the crash.

"I'll always love you, Rowan," he said quietly. She couldn't look at him. His words were a burden. "I'm just sorry that it's not as much as you deserve." He paused. "Maybe- Maybe it's better this way." His voice echoed quietly throughout the room. She couldn't respond. She simply bowed her head lower.

Then there was a creak of the door and a soft click. The tide pulled away. She was left to the silence of the sun.

Finally, Rowan opened her eyes. The wooden floor glistened with the bright light of November. She looked up to the large window of her flat. The sun was so bright. It was blinding. She felt as if she might be absorbed into its light and fade away into nothing - would she find the Remus she had been searching for all along there? Would James and Lily be there too?

A bird could be heard outside of her window. It chirped softly, a high, happy sound. It trickled into her apartment, coating the floors and walls with its light. Rowan bowed her head once more. The wave crashed deafeningly around her. She felt it leak from her eyes. She gasped and choked, washed up on the shore alone. She felt her fingers sinking into the hot sand, her cheek smashed against it. She was tangled and weak, but her lungs sucked forcefully on the sunlight around her. It was so very warm.

He was gone.


	67. Of Legs That Tremble, Feet That Step

**A/N:** Second to last chapter! I know the ending of the last one was a bit of a shocker for some of you, but I felt it necessary in the greater perspective of who Remus is now and who he is when Harry meets him. I don't think Remus is ready yet, and Rowan still has many adventures to conquer before she's ready to grow up, too. But rest assured, they're not done yet. There's still an entire other story to get through, after all!

Thanks so much to my reviewers **missalex3030, ****MaeveDevine, ****Fern27, ****SMGF1, ****casualmoose, ****zmey9265, ****DontTellMeImWrongBitch, ****gossamermouse101, ****Lady Syndra, ****wickedgrl123!** I'm thrilled about the feedback! Less tears this time!

**Fern27:** Thank you so much! Thank you for following along all this time. I'm really happy you've enjoyed it and flattered that you wrote me your first review. I really hope you continue to feel the same way as the story continues. Thank you again and again!

**REVIEW MEEEEE!**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 67: Of Legs That Tremble, Feet That Step<strong>

It was the end of December. Despite being frigidly cold, England had yet to see a single snowflake, but Rowan Delacroix was convinced that it would come any day now. The sky was a heavy gray. It looked as if it might fall at any moment. The ground was dusted with a light coat of frost, which cracked under her boots as she approached the cottage on the hill in front of her. Even in the cold winter air, it seemed so warm. Even with Leanna gone, it seemed very much like home. Lyall answered the door before she could even raise a hand to knock. His face lit up at the very sight of her.

"Rowan," he greeted affectionately. He swept her into a tight embrace, which she returned happily. The warmth of the Lupin household seemed to beckon her inside with promises of comfort. A distant image of his son flashed through her mind, but it was faint. She smiled.

* * *

><p>"So what will you do now?"<p>

Rowan smiled softly over her teacup. She and Lyall sat in the kitchen of the Lupin household like she had so many times with Leanna before she had passed. Her chest tightened slightly at the thought of the bright woman.

"That's actually why I've come to see you. I have some big changes ahead and figured now was the time to let you know - didn't want you finding out from anyone else," she said. Lyall nodded for her to continue.

"The apothecary is nearly finished. We'll probably have a small get-together to celebrate its opening in February, which I'll let you know about. I've asked Isaac to partner with me in the venture. Most of the time, I'll be running it on my own or until I have enough business to get a shopkeeper, but when I can't be there, he'll take over for me," she explained. She then set her cup down and gathered her nerve. "He'll be running it for me after we publish. I'll be going to Hungary for some time to research with Amrit and Lescos."

Lyall's eyes widened. "Hungary?" he echoed. "For how long? What could you possibly be going there for?"

Rowan shrugged. "I'm not sure how long. There's a very specific species of flower there that I need to study, so it depends on that I guess. Belby was sure that it held some sort of key to finding a cure, and I'm determined to follow through with it," she said steadily. "I will be publishing our treatment before I leave though, and Isaac has promised to distribute it for me while I'm away." She looked shiftily up at Lyall, who was gazing at her warily. "Will you... will you tell him?"

Lyall's gaze melted sadly. He nodded and smiled. "Of course," he said softly. Rowan smiled weakly and then stared back down at her tea.

It had been nearly two months now since the dark days that had taken so many from her. She and Mina had stood slowly from the rubble and carried each other through the haze, both blind and stumbling after losing their dearest friends. Neither of them had seen Remus since he'd left her sitting in her flat alone, face cast upward into the sun. She heard bits of news about him from Lyall every now and then, but for the most part, she knew that the rift between them had finally broken - that the rift between him and _the Order_ had broken. It seemed he was beyond all of them, a wandering ghost looking for those he'd lost, not realizing that he, too, was dead.

Then Lyall's face darkened.

"What of the Longbottoms? Do you know how they're doing?" he asked quietly. Rowan grimaced at the thought of Frank and Alice.

"They're-" she choked. Their blank stares flashed through her mind. Barty Crouch Jr.'s thrashing mugshot in the _Daily Prophet _whispered faintly. "They're unwell - I don't think they'll ever be the same again," she said.

Lyall's mouth twisted. "Is it true what they say about them - about what happened?" he asked.

Rowan nodded sadly. "Moody's the one who found them. Alice sent for help when they realized what was happening, but by the time the Aurors got there..." She shook her head of all the terrible images that followed - of gaping mouths and white hair. "They caught them at least," she spat darkly. She thought of tiny Neville, who was now in his grandmother's care. The poor boy - was it kindness or cruelty that his parents were still alive?

It had been the Lestranges, of course. She bristled at the very thought of Bellatrix. She was very glad that the woman was in Azkaban already, for she was sure that she would murder the woman if ever given the chance. She would relish it greatly.

But what had surprised her the most was that Barty Crouch Jr. had also been caught with them.

She had read the trial transcripts out of some sick need to torment herself, to spitefully see that Bellatrix got what she deserved. Bellatrix had been unrepentant, as everyone had expected. But Barty - she repressed a shudder. The poised young man she had come to know and even respect in a way - it didn't seem right. She couldn't imagine his voice over the rambling pleas written across the paper, his terrified tears. Part of her wanted to see him, to ask why he'd done it. After all, he'd seemed just as sick of the war as she had been towards the end. Perhaps they'd forced him there. She wanted to believe that. She felt as if she were still spiraling in that twisted alternate reality. Perhaps she'd fallen down a rabbit hole and was still within a terrible dream.

"Thank Merlin," Lyall said, nodding in agreement. "And good riddance. They deserve to rot in Azkaban." His gaze then softened a bit, and she knew the thought of Azkaban had reminded him of Sirius. "How is Mina? I can't imagine how hard it's been for her," he said quietly.

Rowan smiled softly. "She's okay. She's doing better," she said. "She's taken some time away from the Ministry. They're making her go through department-mandated therapy, but I'm not sure if it's really doing her any good. I mean, it's not like anyone can really relate to what she's gone through."

Lyall nodded thoughtfully. "She never got to see Sirius again, did she?" he asked softly.

Rowan shook her head sadly. "No, none of us did. Mina tried, but he turned her away. He didn't want to see any of us," she said. Her mouth twisted - even after these two months, the thought of her dear friend still twisted a knife in her heart. "Even now, I just don't understand it. I mean, it doesn't make sense, does it? Of all people... _Sirius_. It just doesn't make sense. And even if what they say about him is true, why wouldn't he want to see us?"

Her hands trembled slightly as she thought of his roguish smile, his hearty laugh. He'd always been the bravest out of all them. Nothing about it made any sense.

"I know that all of the evidence points to him, but I just can't shake this feeling. I can't believe that he would betray them, betray us," she continued quietly in a breath. "Mina and I have talked it through over and over, and we still haven't come any closer to understanding what happened that night." She smiled bitterly. She thought of her dear friend, usually so composed and cool, broken and in tears in her arms. "Maybe we're just blinded by our biases. I mean, everyone else seems convinced. Maybe we're just shutting our eyes to the obvious."

Lyall watched Rowan sadly, his heart aching for this sad young woman. To have lost so much at such a young age - it seemed much too cruel.

"And what about your family?" he urged, pushing past this somber topic.

Rowan smiled warmly, and Lyall felt a bit of relief at the sight. "Mum's doing well. She's really excited about the orphanage, now that it's finally starting to come together. She said that you should come over for tea soon and to see the progress on the house," she said happily. Lyall nodded in agreement. Her smile then broadened. "And Alfred - well, he seems to be doing better than all of us," she said conspiratorially.

Lyall raised an eyebrow. She grinned.

"He and Isaac are seeing each other," she declared proudly.

Lyall's eyes widened with surprise. "Really? But Remus told me that Isaac had rejected Alfred when they were in school."

Rowan nodded, still smiling. She could barely contain her excitement as she thought of her uncle-figure and business partner. The knowledge that anyone had found happiness in these dark times was thrilling. She was even more ecstatic that it was Alfred and Isaac.

"Yeah, I was surprised to find out that he was even gay," she explained. She thought back to that hurried conversation she and Mina had eavesdropped on in her family's kitchen and the dazed explanation he'd given her later. "He recently confessed to Alfred that what happened all that time ago was a mistake. He'd been so scared of coming out that he rejected Alfred despite always being in love with him too. It had been tormenting him for years, and after seeing him again after all this time, he realized that he needed to finally do something about it. So now they're together! It's about time, right?"

Rowan beamed. Lyall stared a little dumbstruck as he let the story sink in. The young woman in front of him seemed to glow with happiness for the couple, despite all of the hardships that had been forced upon her. Then his lips spread into a happy smile. She was such a good girl. And if Alfred and Isaac had been able to finally reconnect after so many years apart, then perhaps there was hope for Rowan and Remus in the future too. He wanted to believe it desperately.

* * *

><p>Rowan bent down to tie up her boot laces. She could feel the cold already seeping into her from the doorway as she prepared to leave the Lupins' house. One of her arms had laced through a sleeve, hanging off her frame awkwardly. She then staggered to her feet and finished shrugging on her coat before turning back up to look at Lyall one last time.<p>

He was still as tall and distinguished as ever, though his hair had begun to take on a lighter shade of gray. Her heart clenched slightly as she thought of Remus' peppered locks - would it be much longer before his was as light as his father's?

"Will I see you again before you leave?" he asked.

Rowan nodded. "Yes, I'll try to stop by again soon, but if I don't, I'll be sure to send you an invitation to the apothecary opening," she said earnestly. She smiled up at him warmly. "Thanks for having me over again. I'm really glad I was able to see you," she said genuinely.

Lyall smiled and reached forward, placing a fatherly hand on Rowan's head. She giggled slightly, feeling very girlish for a moment. He patted her hair gently and assessed her briefly.

"Take care of yourself, Winnie. Come see me anytime you like. I'll be here," he said kindly. Rowan nodded eagerly.

"I will," she promised. He smiled again.

As she walked through the crunching grass once more, the chill of December seemed slightly less severe. She paused for a moment halfway down the Lupin's hill and closed her eyes. Breathing in the cold winter air, she released a slow breath. She didn't look to watch it float up to the sky, but she felt as though she could ride on it slowly upward. She felt it join the heavy gray clouds above, which seemed to reach down and graze her cheek with an icy touch. She opened her eyes and looked up.

It had begun to snow.

* * *

><p>The next day, in the cold snowy streets of Diagon Alley, a young witch nervously stood in front of a sparkling new shop. The wooden frames of the windows and door shone pristinely in the bright winter light. The lacquer sparkled red and yellow and gold. Above the door hung what looked like a new sign, but it remained covered in a dark cloth. The levels above still seemed to be under repair. Through the windows, one could see a series of new but empty shelves. The shop was obviously not open yet for business.<p>

Would she be here? The young girl's hands balled up into tight fists, holding onto her determination. She'd prepared for this. She wouldn't go home without a yes. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, pushing open the cold, slickly polished door. A bell chimed overhead, announcing her entrance. She stepped into the shop for what she hoped was the first of many times to come.

* * *

><p>Rowan sat on the cold basement floor of her new laboratory with an array of boxes scattered around her. The newly installed bright lights reflected off of the spotless glossy tiles. She glanced between the boxes with her eyebrows furrowed in frustration – she had really done a very poor job of organizing these. She couldn't remember where she'd put anything.<p>

For the past two months, the apothecary had been undergoing a series of rapid reconstruction. Though the additional floors above the shop were still in process, it was amazing how quickly the original space had been rebuilt – architectural magic was truly an incredible thing. She had made several notes to research it more thoroughly. Although the office and roof garden would not be ready for another few months to come, she was sure she could reopen the apothecary by the end of February. She smiled quietly as she thought of Belby. He wouldn't have believed the sight of how clean and new everything looked. Her smile broadened a bit as she imagined his conflicted grimace of embarrassment.

Then the bell rang from upstairs, and she cursed quietly to herself. Why didn't she lock the door behind her?

"We're not open yet!" she shouted up the stairs. She listened carefully but didn't hear the bell ring again.

"We're not open yet!" she shouted again, but still no response.

Cursing again, she hauled up onto her feet and trudged towards the stairs. Old Alexander had certainly been useful for this reason, if nothing else – perhaps she should invest in a doorman of sorts herself.

When she reached the top, there was a small, thin young woman with pale blonde hair carefully perusing the various empty shelves and stray boxes. Rowan's chest leapt with surprise.

"Claire? Claire Verloren?" she asked disbelievingly. The girl turned with a startled jump and smiled sheepishly. Rowan felt her face spread into a grin. "Merlin, it is you!" she exclaimed, bounding up to the girl. She swept the small girl into a fierce hug. The young woman grinned bashfully and embraced her back tightly.

"Hi, Rowan," she squeaked happily. As Rowan released her, Claire gazed up at her former tutor with obvious admiration.

"What are you doing here?" Rowan asked. She assessed the blonde girl quickly. "My god, you're tall now. I haven't seen you in ages! You're – what – seventeen now?"

Claire beamed at her with a light blush. "Still sixteen – just turned in June; on Christmas holiday from my Sixth Year now," she replied happily.

"Wow, I feel old," Rowan laughed. "You'll be taking your N.E.W.T.s next year then. Any idea of what you'll be pursuing after you graduate?" Rowan still felt awed by how much her former pupil had grown. She couldn't believe it had been so long already. She mentally counted the years and realized how much time had passed without her realizing it.

Claire's blush deepened. She shifted slightly and looked to be thinking with great effort. Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"That's actually why I came to see you," Claire said finally. She seemed to be struggling to hold Rowan's gaze without averting her eyes with embarrassment, and Rowan felt her chest swell with fondness for the girl – she was still as shy and sweet as ever.

"How about we move down to the lab then? It's a bit messy – I'm unpacking my equipment right now - but you can talk to me about it down there," she said, gesturing towards the stairs. Claire nodded eagerly and followed her down.

As they situated themselves at Rowan's desk in the basement, Claire took in all of the scattered Potion Making equipment, eyes widening with awe at her great collection of books and cauldrons. Rowan smiled and thought warmly of how similarly she'd reacted the first time she'd stepped foot into Belby's laboratory. She suddenly missed her master terribly.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Rowan asked kindly. Claire blushed again and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. The simple movement struck Rowan as eerily familiar. A voice nagged at her quietly from the back of her head.

"Well, I'll be going through recruitment next year, and like you said, I need to be considering my next steps for after I graduate," she started shyly. Her hands balled up tightly in her lap as if holding onto her courage.

She paused, but Rowan waited patiently. "Well, you see, I… I was thinking…" she started again but then stopped, choking on her own words. Her voice trembled with anxiety, and Rowan felt bad for her. She'd always been a painfully shy girl, and no matter how much time she'd spent tutoring her back at Hogwarts, the only time she'd ever seen her really relaxed was when she had her nose in a book.

She assessed her quietly as the young girl gathered her nerve. Her hair had gotten quite long over the years. It hung loosely in a golden plait that shimmered prettily in the bright light of the lab. Her eyes were as round and blue as ever, set into a soft face with a small mouth. Rowan thought amusedly that she'd make a very pretty doll.

"I'm interested in going into Potions after I graduate," Claire finally blurted out.

Rowan was startled by the suddenness of her statement but gathered herself quickly and smiled. She was extremely pleased with the idea of her old mentee pursuing the same career. "And you wanted advice on how to go about finding the right Potions Master to apprentice for?" she suggested gently. Claire's face reddened again, but her mouth took on a determined line.

"No," she said defiantly, "I want to be _your_ apprentice."

Rowan's mouth almost fell open. Her shock nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. She had to steady herself before speaking again.

"Claire, I'm not a licensed Potions Master yet, and I'm very inexperienced, even as a Potioneer," she said slowly. "I barely had any time with my own master, and even then, it was a very… _peculiar _apprenticeship. There are plenty of other talented Potions Masters who would be willing to take you on as an apprentice and give you a much better education than I could. I have plenty of colleagues I can connect you with if you need a place to start."

Rowan offered a kind smile with the suggestion but felt the tension in her chest. She saw Claire's face waver slightly with fear, but then she seemed to draw herself even taller. Rowan felt a trickle of ice crawl up her neck at the hard look she gave her.

"I know you're young and inexperienced and everything," Claire rambled shakily. Her face seemed to have permanently been stained red, and her hands trembled in her lap. But she continued onward with determination: "But I don't want anyone else as my master. I want to study under _you_ and only you – anyone else and it won't be worth it," she declared.

Rowan stared hard at the blonde girl. Claire held her gaze nervously but firmly, and the older woman saw a fire in her eyes that she'd never before seen there. Her stomach clenched painfully.

"_Why _me though?" she asked carefully. She eyed the young girl skeptically. Claire trembled slightly under her gaze, but her mouth suddenly took on a harder line, her eyes a brighter blaze.

"Because you're the best," she said fiercely. Rowan felt her own face burn slightly at the girl's blunt compliment. "You've always been the best, even when you were at Hogwarts. Everyone said so! You're not even a Potions Master yet, and you're already publishing an Order of Merlin-worthy formula. I don't care what licenses you've got or how many years of experience you've had. You're the only person that I want as my master."

The words were knocked from Rowan's lungs. She stared disbelievingly at the girl in front of her, barely breathing. Her own memories of Belby came rushing back, but instead of nostalgia or warmth, she felt the chill of fear.

"How do you know about my research?" she asked in a hushed tone. It came out harsher than she'd intended, and Claire flinched slightly. "I'm not publishing for another month. There's no way you could know about that."

Claire's mouth trembled, eyes wide, but the fire was still there. "I remember you talking about wanting to apprentice specifically for Damocles Belby. There's only one thing that he was really researching, and I figured you must be close by now. That's what you're still working on, isn't it?" she asked nervously.

Rowan stared hard at the blonde. Did she really want to apprentice under her so badly that she'd gone so far to research all of her work history? What did she know about Belby? Didn't this mean that she knew about the nature of her work? About the subject?

"You don't know what you're asking of me," she said quietly. Her breath came in creeping inches. Her lungs clenched painfully, but she couldn't find the air. "This isn't just a matter of learning from someone you admire. The content of my work isn't something you just jump into."

"I know," Claire said, "I know about Belby's work, and I want to help you."

Rowan's fear seemed to seep into her very bones. Was this punishment for burdening her own master?

"Claire, this isn't about ethics or doing the right thing," she said carefully. "It's dangerous and isolating. There is no glory, no awards worth anything that will ever make up for the work and the sacrifice. I've lost much more than you can imagine to the path that I've chosen, and I certainly would not ever wish it upon you."

Rowan's eyes burned into Claire. Her heart was pounding in her head with fear. She needed to knock this dangerous idea from the girl's head – she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

"I know all of that," she started fiercely, but before she could continue, Rowan cut her off.

"_No_," she interrupted. She was speaking harshly now, rudely, but she couldn't let this good person, this kind girl, to go the same way she had. She needed to cut this off now. "No, you think you know. You _think_! But you have no idea. You have _no fucking clue."_ Her voice trembled. She thought of Belby's burning skin, of the heavy scars upon Remus' face. Why was this happening?

"When I was sixteen, I thought I knew too. I was convinced that I was strong enough, smart enough, but it's much more terrible, much lonelier than you can possibly imagine. I've lost both my master and my father because of my involvement in this. I will not put you at risk as well. I will _not_ have you on my conscience," she declared angrily.

Claire cowered under Rowan's heat with wide, watery eyes. Rowan stared her down with a furious fire. This girl was too small, too frail. There was no way she'd be able to handle the harshness of this world, this lifestyle. She needed to make the final push, scare her away before she made a huge mistake. But before she could continue, Claire spoke again.

"It's because of Remus, isn't it? That's why you keep going," she said. Her voice was so small, like a tiny bell. It trembled in the space between them so quietly, but it shook Rowan to the core. She felt as if her blood stopped flowing.

"What do you know about that?" Rowan hissed.

"He's a werewolf. He's the reason you've chosen to do this," the blonde girl responded quietly. Rowan's throat clenched painfully. She couldn't breathe.

"I know," Claire said carefully. "I know he's a werewolf, and I know the reason your master worked so hard was because his wife was a werewolf." Her voice seemed to grow with strength as she spoke, and by the time she finished, Rowan could barely hear a tremble.

Rowan stared at the girl with disbelief. How could she know all of this? When could she have possibly discovered Remus' secret? They'd only had two years with her at Hogwarts, and Rowan had even made sure to spread false rumors about his scars _through_ this girl so that no one would suspect his condition. Claire seemed to read her mind.

"I figured it out in DADA last year while we were studying lycanthropy. He just popped into my head during class one day, and suddenly, it seemed so obvious. I couldn't believe I'd never realized it after all the times I saw him with you, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense... He's your reason, isn't he?" Claire asked fervently.

Rowan gazed at her warily. So she knew Remus' secret – what did it have to do with her apprenticeship? Was she trying to blackmail her way into Rowan's tutelage?

"Yes," Rowan answered carefully, almost with defiance. She stared her down hotly, and Claire cowered again slightly. Rowan was amazed at how someone could waver between fear and confidence so easily. "So what is _your_ reason?" She held her gaze hard and unwavering. She wouldn't be threatened into taking on an apprentice and certainly not by this frail girl.

"Marie Acina," Claire replied quickly. She seemed startled at the speed of her own answer.

Rowan felt her eyebrows furrow tightly with confusion. "What does Marie have to do with anything?" she asked slowly.

Claire shifted uneasily for a moment before straightening up again. "She was my aunt," she said uncomfortably.

Rowan's blood flow stopped again, eyes widening. "Your aunt?" she asked breathlessly.

Claire nodded jerkily. "She was my mother's older sister. She died before I was born obviously, but my mum still talks about her all the time." She wrung her hands desperately. "She's… She's the one thing my mother regrets more than anything – she was too afraid and too young to really do anything for her before she died. It was even harder back then for werewolves, and I don't know… I just- I want to do _something_. I can't explain why I feel this way about someone I've never even met, but I just have to. It's not right!"

Claire's large blue eyes glowed brightly in her pale face, small mouth twisting nervously. Her hands fidgeted tightly in her lap. Rowan imagined a long scar running up her neck, circles beneath those large eyes and suddenly wanted to laugh at the cruel irony of it all. _Of course!_ She was the spitting image of Marie! She had seen the poor, frail woman seated in that same spot with her old clothes and her graying hair and the wondrous look of adoration in her huge eyes. How had she not seen it before? How had she never noticed how familiar Marie had looked, how she'd already known that face long before she'd met Belby?

Rowan's lips began to tremble. Claire's eyes widened with horror at the small movement, but Rowan was beyond propriety. She knew somewhere that she should feel guilty, but the despair erupted from her lungs almost painfully. There was anger boiling up her throat, into her eyes. She thought of Belby's trumpeting laughter echoing around the laboratory. She wanted to roll onto the cold floor, smash her face into it with fury and frustration. She wanted to turn over and see her old master laughing on the ground next to her, wanted to reach out and feel him alive and well again. She covered her eyes with her hands. The light was suddenly too painful. She felt wetness beneath her palms as the desperation peaked and leaked from her eyes. It was too much – _too much._

"Fuck," she cursed breathlessly. "_Fuck!"_

She leaned back in her chair with her hands still over her eyes as she steadied her breathing. The room echoed loudly with silence. Claire remained seated in her chair, unmoving and unspeaking. Rowan's breath came harshly, shakily.

"Why is this happening?" she whispered into the still space.

_Is this how you felt, Master Belby?_ _Will you forgive me for this too?_

"God _damn it_," she whispered. Claire didn't respond, and she didn't remove her hands from her eyes. She was afraid to see the girl's face. This was a terrible idea. She couldn't believe she was even considering this, after all of the pain she had brought her own master. Perhaps this was her punishment.

She slowly removed her hands. They slid down and hung limply at her sides, but she kept her gaze upward at the bright lights above. The light stung her eyes sharply. She breathed in a deep sigh, inhaling slowly and exhaling shakily. She then sat up slowly and brought her gaze to meet Claire's levelly. The blonde girl still looked at her with mild horror but a light hope in her eyes. Rowan thought of the glowing field of flowers.

"Okay," she said softly. Claire's eyes widened with disbelief. Her eyes seemed to quiver with emotion, lips pulling hesitantly - she was unsure if she could smile or not. But Rowan's gaze remained hard. It immediately sobered the younger girl.

"I'm going to give you the same ultimatum my master gave to me," she said sharply. Claire perked up at attention. "If you can pass your Potions N.E.W.T. with a perfect score and an O in Herbology, then I will take you on as an apprentice," she said quietly. Claire's face seemed to drain of blood at the thought, but she kept her gaze firm. "Once I have settled in here, you will also have weekly research assignments with me via owl. I've already scoured basically every book in the Hogwarts library, so I will send you my own research notes. You will produce iterations of formulas I develop and analyze my own raw data. I will not give you breaks during holidays, and I expect you to sleep very little throughout the school year. If you can do all of this without quitting or messing up, then we'll discuss your apprenticeship next June, but unlike when I tutored you, I will not hold your hand; I will not go easy on you; I will not give second chances. This is a hard life, and any apprentice that I take on must be even harder. Do you understand?"

Claire seemed to be frozen to her seat. She stared wide-eyed at Rowan for a moment, still and taut. But just as Rowan felt her diaphragm drop, Claire's eyes blazed heatedly again, and her head was nodding furiously.

"I'll do all of it," she declared fiercely. "I will. I will!" She was leaning forward as if being pulled by a cord in her chest. Her face was glowing with joy. Her tiny mouth had spread almost unfathomably wide into a bright grin.

"Thank you, Rowan! I promise you won't regret this! Oh, thank you! _Thank you!_" she exclaimed. Her eyes were so wide that Rowan worried mildly that they might burst from her face. She couldn't help the small smile that pulled her own mouth.

Rowan thought of Marie's bright eyes and the way her face had seemed so much younger when she'd smiled. Would she have looked like Claire if it weren't for her condition? Claire took Rowan's hands boldly between her own and squeezed them, and the older woman remembered the way Marie had shaken Belby's hand with gratitude so many years ago. She barely heard the words of excitement that spilled from the girl's mouth. She thought of all of her reasons to keep going and hoped that this girl had enough fire to match hers. She thought of how it seemed just like yesterday that she was testing herself against Belby's fire in the Great Hall at Hogwarts and wondered how things had changed so quickly. Her chest ached – he should still be here. _She _should be the pupil, not the mentor. How had things come to be this way?

But as the heat sparked in the young girl's eyes, Rowan saw so many memories flash over her features. She saw her own face there and then Marie's. She saw Belby. She smiled sadly. The long note of her father's favorite song rang high and clear in her heart. No matter how her life changed, some things were just destined to repeat themselves. She hoped that, unlike hers, Claire's story ended happily.


	68. Of Distant Rolling Hills

**A/N:** This is the last chapter - made it in under 70! A HUGE thank you to everyone who's gotten this far! It's been a long ride, and there's _still_ an entire last installment that will cover the Second Wizarding War. The third and last story of the series will be titled **_Of a Lingering Hope_**. I'm really excited about this one. I've been forming this story in my head for so long now, and this last part is everything I've been building up towards. It'll be a little less dark than this one, at least before shit starts going down around the Sixth Book. I'll be posting the first chapter probably in the next couple of days, so be on the lookout!

THANK YOU to **sarahmichellegellarfan1, lovirosa, missalex3030, MaeveDevine, casualmoose, and Tanjatailor** for the extremely kind reviews! Thanks especially to those of you who have been reviewing the story this entire time. You guys know who you are. I really can't express how much it means to me to know that you're reading with me every step of the way. It's been a ton of fun so far, and I hope you all continue to finish this last leg of the journey together!

**Tanjatailor: **THANK YOU! I'm grateful and humbled that you felt so strongly about my story to write a review. It really means a lot to me to know that you've enjoyed it so much. Thank you for reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think in the future!

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling is a badass genius to whom I am eternally grateful. I will never own any of the stories or characters that my fanfiction contains because they all belong to her and rightfully so.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 68: Of Distant Rolling Hills<strong>

"WEREWOLF TREATMENT PUBLISHED. ORDER OF MERLIN AWARDED POSTHUMOUSLY.

_Just last month, the controversial 'Wolfsbane Potion,' a treatment for the condition known as lycanthropy, or werewolfism, was published posthumously by the renowned Potions Master Damocles Belby. Taken daily for the week approaching the full moon, this groundbreaking potion nullifies the dangerous effects of the disease, namely werewolf aggression. It results in a quiet transformation during which the individual retains human consciousness in wolf form and simply sleeps away the duration of the full moon. Given that the disease is passed via bite wounds, the proper distribution of this treatment could potentially prevent all further transmission of the disease. _

_You might remember the potion's creator Damocles Belby as the victim of a terrible case of arson two years ago. Before becoming the research authority on lycanthropy, he was well known for his novel work in the uses of moonstone. He tragically died at the hands of Death Eaters in the fire that took his apothecary in Diagon Alley. _

_So how could he have published now when he has been deceased for over two years? Although much of his work was lost in the fire, a great resource was saved – his young apprentice, Ms. Rowan Delacroix. You might recognize her as the daughter of the much-respected late Head of the Department of International Law and recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, Richard Delacroix, who also died in a Death Eater arson attack two Aprils ago. This remarkable young woman is not just tied to great men – she has been working tirelessly for the past two years to recover all of her late master's work and has published their findings under his name. This week, the Minister of Magic awarded Mr. Belby the Order of Merlin, Second Class for his contributions to the art of Potion of Making and also offered the award to Ms. Delacroix; however, she has politely declined the prestigious honor._

_Although she has avoided any interviews since publishing, we finally caught up with Ms. Delacroix the other day to ask for her reasons for this unusual gesture._

_'I might have recovered and published the work, but the true creator and genius behind the Wolfsbane Potion is Damocles Belby. Without him and his extensive efforts, there would be nothing to publish. I owe all of my success to him and to the great researchers who helped me along the way – my partner Isaac D'Este, Professor Amrit Kohli of the Druid University of London, Healer Lescos Farago of St. Mungo's Hospital, and the late Fabian Prewett of the Institute of Charms and Enchantments,' she said._

_A gracious response from a very gracious young woman. We also asked what her future plans are. Although very young – turning 22 this summer – she is determined to prioritize her work. The youngest licensed Potioneer in British history, Ms. Delacroix passed her licensing examinations just a little over a year ago with stellar results and plans to continue her research. She hopes to earn her Master of Potions license as well in the coming years._

_'I have a long way to go, but I hope to eventually discover a real cure for this terrible condition, not just a treatment,' she said. 'While I'm very proud of the work I have accomplished thus far, it's still not enough. I hope to not only help treat patients with this disease but also shed light on the civil injustices these individuals face in our society. I encourage everyone to reach out to his or her Ministry representatives and push for legislative and social reform. A cure might be far off still, but we can change prejudice now.'_

_Ms. Delacroix will be traveling abroad to continue her research in the coming months, but her partner Isaac D'Este will be offering free treatment to any individuals with lycanthropy at their newly constructed apothecary, DD&B Potions, in Diagon Alley. They promise discretion and full confidentiality for all patients."_

* * *

><p>"Wow, you actually sound pretty smart," commented Mina Surrey disbelievingly. She placed the copy of <em>The Daily Prophet<em> down on the café table and grinned. Her companion's face, though smiling shyly up at them from the article's photo in the paper, pulled into a glare.

"What do you mean '_actually?_'" she bit back. Mina grinned cheekily at her. Rowan took a large unladylike bite out of her chocolate croissant in a huff as the brunette laughed softly and skimmed over the paper again.

"I thought you weren't going to give any interviews. What changed?" she asked.

Rowan shrugged, swallowing down her pastry. "They wouldn't fucking leave me alone. They'd even started showing up at my parents' house to harass my mum. She's already been in a bad state this past month. I was afraid she might pull her wand out on the reporters if I left her to them," she said sullenly.

Mina nodded gravely, and the two fell into a heavy silence. Carole had been in poor spirits since Julia Potter had passed away in January. There hadn't really been anything wrong with her physically. Was it possible to die of grief? Yes - after losing James, Lily, Sirius, and finally Harry, Rowan was convinced that the poor woman's heart had just given out. Dying of a broken heart – it really was possible. They'd laid her to rest in Godric's Hollow, reuniting her with her family. Rowan felt her chest contract painfully as she thought of her late godmother. She hoped she was finally happy again.

"How's the construction going at the house?" Mina asked, breaking the silence.

Rowan smiled softly. "It's going well. The architects think it'll be done by August. Mum and Alfred are already sorting out the paperwork with the Ministry to start placing children there before next school year," she said proudly.

Mina smiled with great warmth. "The Lily and James Potter Home for Children – I couldn't think of a better way to memorialize them." Rowan hummed happily in agreement.

It was the middle of February, and Diagon Alley was still covered in a thin blanket of sparkling white snow. It gleamed blindingly in the winter light. Rowan had to squint with effort as she moved through it, careful to not slip and fall on the icy cobblestone. After leaving their cafe - for the last time in a while - they set a course for the new apothecary. As she approached the store – _her_ store – a bright smile spread across her face.

She took in the new store front with its polished red wooden frame that stood in the place of what had been blackened ruins just a few months before. Its reconstruction had been complete for a couple of weeks now, but even so, she couldn't help the grin that overtook her every time she saw it. The sign that hung above the door was now shining and presented to the world. Its gold letters glinted in the sunlight.

"It's looking fantastic," Mina said. The two young women looked over it with pride, taking in the new sheen. Mina looked up over the door and grinned. "DD&B Potions, huh?"

Rowan also grinned and nodded. "Yeah, it didn't seem right to call it Belby Potions anymore, but I wanted to keep a bit of him there. So Delacroix, D'Este & Belby it is," she said happily. The two women admired it for a moment longer before being interrupted with a sneeze from the brunette.

"Okay, I'm freezing my ass off," Mina whined. "Let's head back to your place before I die of hypothermia." She grabbed Rowan's arm and pulled her down the street. Rowan snickered and took one more look at the building as she stumbled away. Both women's cheeks were rosy from the cold, and she thought of how wonderful it was to still have Mina in her life. She smiled warmly and then followed her friend out of Diagon Alley.

* * *

><p>"So is that it?" Mina asked over a large trunk. She eyed Rowan carefully, and the dark-haired woman could see the hesitation there. A twinge of guilt shot through her, but she smiled.<p>

"Yeah, bags are ready to go. Apartment is packed up and ready for the movers. Isaac's running the shop. Claire has my address in Hungary. Everything's accounted for," she said, ticking off her list. She poured some boiling water into her last remaining unpacked mugs, watching the leaves swirling there. She wondered a bit sadly when she'd see her chinaware next. She gazed around her now empty apartment and marveled at how the floors gleamed against the bright winter sunlight. "What about you? Have you completely _un_packed by now?"

Mina smiled quietly and nodded. Another wave of guilt washed over Rowan. Mina had moved out of hers and Sirius' old flat a few weeks before for very similar reasons that Rowan had for leaving her own – too many memories of the men they'd loved, too many ghosts from the war. It only seemed fitting that they begin their new lives in new places, right?

"Yeah, finally," she responded. "It took me a while to get all the shelves mounted, but it's finally coming together. You were definitely right about the paint color by the way. My mum's really in love with it," she said brightly.

Rowan smiled fondly but didn't say anything. She wasn't sure if recommending the pale blue to Mina was a good idea – it was the same blue of Remus' childhood bedroom walls – but when she'd seen the color among Mina's paint chips, it had sort of just blurted out of her mouth without warning. She couldn't explain it. The color seemed like a memory in itself – like an embodiment of those beautiful first years she and Remus had had together as children at school. It almost felt sacrilegious that Mina's new apartment was covered in that color, in those tones of their past lives, but she couldn't bring herself to take it back. She almost felt comforted in the fact that the color existed somewhere beyond the war, somewhere in this new time of beginnings.

"How are your Mum and Alfred doing? It must be lonely without Julia around," Mina said, breaking Rowan from her nostalgia.

Rowan smiled softly. "They're doing okay. Alfred is obviously still on airs with Isaac, and Mum's improving steadily," she said. "The manor is really coming together finally. You should stop by when you get the chance. Mum's always asking about you," she said.

Mina grinned back. "I think I will. I'll be sure to talk tons of shit about you with her and Alfred while you're away," she said cheekily.

Rowan blew a raspberry. "Bitch," she said playfully. They grinned at each other, but then Rowan's softened.

"You can still come with me, you know," she said softly. "I think it'd be good for you to get away from here."

Mina smiled sadly. "I know," she said quietly, "but I can't go. You lost much more than I did – it makes sense that you'd need to escape for a while – but I still…" she trailed off. Rowan's throat tightened at the usually biting brunette's lost fervor.

Mina had opened up in a completely new way to Rowan since Sirius' arrest and conviction, but the heaviness still remained in her heart. It had all gone so quickly. He hadn't even had a trial. None of them were granted access to see him even once, and before any of them could protest, he was gone. Rowan had swallowed her grief and spent nearly every waking moment with her friend, drowning her own misery in hard efforts to be with Mina. Even though she'd finally convinced her to move out of the home she'd shared with Sirius, it was still impossible to move on completely for either of them. Rowan was running, but Mina was stronger. She had such a heated admiration for her friend.

"What will you do then?" she asked quietly. Mina's gaze fell into her teacup, which was grasped tightly between the brunette's hands.

"I'm going back to work," she said firmly. Rowan was surprised at the strength of her tone and wondered when she'd decided. "I can't mourn him anymore. The rest of the world is moving on – even _you're_ taking steps to move on. It only seems right that I should too, right?"

Rowan watched Mina ardently. The familiar quiet smolder in her friend was burning again, and she felt it sear from her friend's eyes into her own chest.

"I don't think anyone would blame you for needing a little more time to mourn, Mina," she said firmly. Mina kept her gaze downward and frowned. Rowan pulled her courage forward. "You and Sirius had a life together. He wasn't just your boyfriend – he was your colleague, your best friend. If you need more time, then take more time," she said fervently. The heat had spread through her limbs. She thought of her lost friend – his barking laugh, his warm friendly embrace – and felt her throat constrict momentarily, but she pushed it away. She pushed the bitterness of anger down as it rose up her throat again. Mina looked up at Rowan. Her gaze was still heated, eyebrows furrowed.

"You could say the same about yourself though," she said hotly. Rowan saw the anger building in Mina and was startled by its intensity. "You lost Remus _and _James _and_ Lily! And even before that, you lost your dad and Belby and Leanna too. You weren't even allowed to take Harry – I _still _can't forgive Dumbledore for that – but you're still moving on with your life! Shouldn't I do the same?"

Rowan grimaced as she felt the fire at the back of her eyes. She thought of that dark mop of hair and the way those tiny hands gripped her fingers, but she pushed the image from her mind. She wouldn't cry again now.

"I'm not moving on," she admitted ashamedly. Mina's mouth tightened. "I'm running away. I just can't stand being here any longer when everything reminds me of… of everyone," she said sadly. _Of him._ Her chest ached painfully. She gazed into her mug and saw the dark liquid pooled at the bottom. It reminded her of how Sirius' hair had dripped with black coffee just two Aprils before.

Mina's gaze softened briefly but then hardened again. "You shouldn't have to run away," she said acidly. "Lupin… he should be here with you – with all of us! _He_ fucking ran away when we needed him! That fucking_ bastard_," she spat angrily.

Rowan's stomach churned painfully. The corner of her mouth twitched. "Remus has more demons than I'll ever be able to exorcise, especially now," she said wistfully. "I've come to understand a little recently that he's the most alone out of all of us. At least we still have each other." She thought of the empty look behind his tired eyes that last day. She still wondered where he'd gone in the haze of November, but she imagined he probably couldn't even describe his wandering if asked. Her head swam with her memories of him. Sometimes it was so loud that she'd even taken to storing her memories in small vials recently. They were all packed away with the rest of her belongings for storage.

She wondered where he was, if he was safe. His three best mates were gone from this world, and he was left to pick up the pieces of his shattered life alone. She knew that no matter how much she wanted to be with him, he was beyond her grasp – a ghost on a distant plane. She wondered sometimes if he'd spirit away into the after life without her ever knowing. Would he find James, Lily and Peter there? At times, she almost _wanted_ him to join them – perhaps it would finally release him from the burdens of this world.

Mina watched Rowan with skepticism, mouth still twisting with anger. "I don't understand how you can _not_ hate him!" she said bitterly. "You've done everything for him, and you lost so much more than he did! And you're _still here!_ He's such a downright bastard! How can he…?" she trailed off, gasping angrily for breath. _How can he leave you when we've already lost so much? _Rowan smiled thinly.

"I do hate him sometimes – all the time, actually," she admitted. "But I'm just so tired of us… of thinking of us or of him. I'm just too tired to care anymore. He's beyond me now. I don't know," she rambled vaguely. "Sometimes, I hate him so much I want to throw up, but then I realize that he's more pitiful than anything else. It's enough to make me regret it all. But I keep telling myself that, one day, I'll be strong enough to look back and be able to say that it was all worth it, you know?"

Mina's eyes still burned indignantly, but she said nothing, instead turning back down to her tea with her mouth twisting angrily. The guilt ate away at Rowan's stomach again as she gazed at her best friend. Mina was truly her last defender, the angry honesty she was afraid to voice. Who would be here to defend _her_ while she was away?

Her sad thoughts were interrupted with a sharp knock on the door. Rowan and Mina's heads jerked up and then back to each other with a sad grimace. The two stood, all the anger of the previous conversation suddenly gone with the hard sound. They vanished away the remaining tea in their mugs and then stored them away quickly into the last box, sealing it with an efficient flick of the wand.

Rowan then turned to her friend. Mina's mouth was in a tight line. Her blue eyes burned brilliantly. Rowan admired her openly – she always was the most beautiful out of all of them.

"Well, this is it," Rowan said quietly. Mina nodded jerkily and stepped forward quickly, grasping Rowan tightly. The two young women held each other, standing in the middle of the bright, empty room. Rowan breathed deeply. She would never step foot in this space again. Another goodbye to the life she had known, to the life she'd shared with_ him_ – she wasn't sure if she was ready, but this chapter of her life was closing regardless.

They pulled away finally, both with tears shining in their eyes. But they smiled.

"You better write to me the moment you get there," Mina commanded firmly. Rowan beamed and hugged her friend again.

"I will. I promise."

The two pulled away again and grasped hands tightly, taking one good hard look at each other. Rowan wondered how long it would be until she saw her again.

"Oy, girlie! You ready?" boomed a large voice from outside the door. Rowan flinched at the sound.

"Just one second!" she called back. She turned back to Mina.

"Here I go," she said. Mina smiled tightly.

"Here you go," she echoed. Her smile broadened proudly. "Be sure to bring back lots of those flowers. I think I'd like some for my flat as well," she said. Rowan grinned and nodded before turning back to the door. As she opened it – with Mina's hand still gripping one of hers – the two women were greeted by a mammoth form with a broad grin.

"Good to go?" Lescos Farago asked brightly. Amrit Kohli poked her head out from behind him, smiling calmly. Rowan smiled and nodded.

"Good to go."

"You better take care of her," Mina said glaringly, squeezing Rowan's hand.

Lescos laughed a bit nervously but grinned again. "She's in good hands, lassie," he pledged. "She'll be back in one piece in no time." Mina smiled and nodded.

"We'd better hurry or we'll miss our train," Amrit said. Rowan nodded and then turned back to Mina. She grinned – a toothy Cheshire Cat smile.

"Don't break too many hearts while I'm away," she teased.

Mina laughed brightly – a clear, lovely sound. "Are you kidding? I'm going to have to do twice the work to break your share as well. I can't guarantee that there will be any men left in all of London by the time you get back." Rowan guffawed and hugged her friend one last time.

"Good luck!" Mina called after the trio of researchers as they started down the street. Rowan had to keep herself from looking back at the brunette one last time.

"Excited?" Amrit asked Rowan with a knowing smile.

Rowan nodded giddily. Something that she hadn't felt for a long time was welling up at the pit of her stomach. "More than you know," she said. Amrit smiled softly, taking Lescos' hand. He smiled down at the two smaller women.

As they boarded the train, Rowan looked out at the sea of people on the platform. She thought of that very first day, nearly 11 years ago. It had all started on a platform, just like this. She thought of the tiny boy who had sparked this journey. Who could have guessed that he'd bring her to this point? Who could have guessed that she'd now stand here alone? She smiled despite herself.

She could stand alone.

England disappeared behind them in a blur. She gazed out into the distance as the giant towers of London faded away. The hills were still pale with winter, but perhaps they would be green when she returned. She thought of Lily and little Harry. She thought of James' grin and Sirius' laugh, of tiny Peter Pettigrew, and her father and Belby and Marie and Leanna. Maybe they were all out there as well, in some form or another.

That feeling in her stomach crept upward into her chest. It had been so long since she'd felt anything even resembling it. She thought it might burst at any moment. It felt very much like hope.


End file.
